The Seeker
by LegendaryArimaspi
Summary: AU: Shunned by Gryffindor for losing 150 points, Harry Potter runs away from Hogwarts. A few years later, the Tri-Wizard Cup is hosted at Hogwarts, but who is the mysterious Italian student? HP/KB; limited (if any) bashing. Rated M because I'm paranoid.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Harry Potter franchise; all rights go to J.K. Rowling.  
Chapter 1

* * *

It was a strange thing what indifference could do a person. It could make a man go mad, under certain circumstances. George Bernard Shaw once said, "The worst sin towards our fellow creatures is not to hate them, but to be indifferent to them; that's the essence of inhumanity."

It was this concept, this indifference that was slowly driving a young boy in Scotland insane. This boy, Harry James Potter was eleven years old.

He was also a Wizard.

Being treated with indifference and ignored by one's peers would be bad enough for the young boy, but it was made even worse by the circumstances that he suffered it in.

For all of his life, except for the first year and a half, he had been shown nothing but hatred. He had become used to the abuse from his relatives and the lack of care from Muggle police and their neighbours.

However, he had then been thrown a metaphorical bone in the form of a giant man named Rubeus Hagrid. Hagrid, who turned out to be the Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts, an institution of magic in Scotland, introduced him to the Magical world and his past.

He had been sorted into Gryffindor: the House of the brave and supposedly noble. His Head of House, Minerva McGonagall, had told then that their House would be like family to them over the next seven years.

_Family_. That word had immediately made him wary of how the next seven years of his life would be and, sure enough, things had fallen apart.

It had all started with Norbert the Norwegian Ridgeback, a dragon that Hagrid had bred by himself - an illegal act in the Wizarding World. An attempt to smuggle said dragon out of the castle had succeeded but failed at the same time, resulting in this chaos.

His best friend Ron's older brother Charlie had come in from Romania, where he worked on a dragon ranch of sorts. He had ended up getting away with the small dragon, but Harry and his best friends Ron and Hermione had each lost fifty points from their House, Gryffindor.

At that point, Harry's fear had come to light, and his 'family' had shunned the trio. Having lived in hatred for so long, he would have been fine with being attacked by his peers as revenge, but the complete loss of contact with other humans had him lost.

Even his Quidditch team, a group that he had come to see as his brothers and sisters, refused to speak to him, and if they did, they only called him 'the Seeker.'

Indeed, for a person who wanted family more than anything else, as the Mirror of Erised had noted, Harry had awful luck with family. His entire life had been dictated by his family: love for a year and a half, disgust and hatred for eleven years, caring for half of a year, and then this terrible lack of any emotion.

Harry had more reason than most to be distrustful of that fateful word: "family."

He had considered, for a brief period of time, suicide. It would be so easy to add porcupine quills too early for a potion (Snape would probably call him a dunderhead during the eulogy) or to step off of the Astronomy tower and never look back. He had nearly done it, but the only thing holding back was that if he did, no one would care. Hermione and Ron might, for a time, but they would forget him soon enough.

If there was one thing that Harry wanted, other than a family, it was to do his parents proud. And wasting their sacrifice at such a young age would not do so, especially without ever leaving his mark on the world.

As Harry rolled around on his bed, he came to a decision. If he didn't want to kill himself, but couldn't stay at Hogwarts for any longer, he would simply leave. Maybe he would go to the continent, find another Magical school, and start a new life, one where he would not be vilified for something so petty.

He would make a name for himself, he would make his parents proud, and he would show Wizarding Britain just how good a Wizard he was.

His mind set, Harry James Potter rolled off of his bed. Ron's snores stopped for a moment before continuing at their steady pace. Harry quickly packed his trunk, keeping his father's Invisibility Cloak and his Nimbus 2000 broomstick, his two most prized possessions, out.

He then pushed a few of his Hogwarts cloaks under bedsheets - it wasn't as though he would need them much anymore - making the form of a young boy under them. As a final thought, he penned a quick note on parchment and left it with the cloaks.

Harry proceeded to pull the Invisibility Cloak over his body and walked down the stairs to the Common Room. Ignoring a couple of sixth years snogging, except for the obligatory leer at the female without her cloak or shirt on, he popped open a window.

He then realized that his trunk and Hedwig's cage would weigh him down as he rode, so he coughed to get the couple's attention. "Excuse me," he said gently as the girl swivelled around to look at him. The male continued to suck at her collarbone as Harry strove to keep his eyes away from her green bra and on her hazel eyes that smouldered with lust.

"What?" she asked, impatiently and, in Harry's opinion, rudely.

"I was just wondering if you could shrink my trunk and owl cage for me, please," he said meekly.

"Why?" she responded.

"Because I'm running away," he said sarcastically, though he doubted that she would care if he had said it in a straight voice.

"Whatever," she said, before shrinking his trunk and owl cage with a few sweeps of her wand, pausing only to lurch as the male's hand groped her firm bottom, nor that she seemed to mind it.

"Thank you," he said quietly, but she had already gone back to straddling the boy's waist. He gulped as her pants were lowered slightly, exposing a scorpion tattoo and a thin green thong.

The couple did not even noticed the windows open or close, nor did they see the empty broom, or the snowy owl that flew beside it, it's cage in a shrunken, weightless trunk within an Invisible boy's pocket.

Harry Potter was leaving Britain, hopefully for good.

* * *

Ronald Weasley had not been faring too well the past couple of weeks. After the incident with Norbert the Norwegian Ridgeback, all of Gryffindor tower had been avoiding him, just as they had been doing so to his best friends Hermione Granger and Harry Potter.

Hermione was a Muggleborn bookworm, and they had become friends after an incident with a Troll. Harry, on the other hand, was sleeping, though he was completely motionless.

"Oi, Harry," he grunted, padding over to his best mate's bed barefoot. "Harry, mate, get up," he said, his voice becoming more urgent.

He shook Harry's form, but it gave out under the pressure. He pulled back the covers in a panic, only to find a bundle of cloaks under them.

A quick check showed that Neville was sleeping soundly, as were their other roommates, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan. However, the Boy-Who-Lived was nowhere to be seen.

Ron was not surprised by this, because it was commonplace for Harry to wake up before him. He would probably be in the Common Room with Hermione, discussing some useless topic, like Potions or one of their other classes.

He did, however, start to panic due to the fake Harry.

Perhaps, Harry had just woken up early and wanted to go the Common Room without any interruption. That was when he realized that Harry's trunk was missing, as were all of his possessions.

Ron ran full tilt down the stairs of the boys' dormitory at a break neck speed. He crossed the Common Room, which was devoid of Harry, before arriving at the stairs to the girls' dormitory.

A few onlookers chuckled in anticipation of what was to come, noticeably Fred and George Weasley, pranksters extraordinaire.

As Ron got about half way up the stairs, he triggered the anti-male wards, causing the steps to become exponentially steeper, before turning into a slide that carried Ron back down to the Common Room. Ignoring the raucous laughs fairly well except for his blush, he called out, "Hermione! Get down here now!"

The bushy haired girl in question came sliding down the steps a few moments later, glaring at Ron. "What could you possibly want this early in the morning, Ronald? It's barely eight o'clock!"

Ron was, in fact, surprised that he had roused himself so early. Instead of answering, he shot back, "What the bloody hell was that?"

"Language, Ronald!" Hermione exclaimed with an indignant expression. "And for your information, that's a failsafe on the girls' dormitory to prevent males from entering without our permission."

Ron looked befuddled at this. "Well, we don't have one."

"That's because us girls are more trustworthy, Ronald. Now explain yourself," she said exasperatedly.

"Oh, right," Ron stuttered, remembering why he was there. "Harry's missing."

Hermione simply sighed. "Please, Ronald, odds are he just got up early and went for breakfast, or is studying in the Library. You know, people do go there," she teased.

Ron glared back at her. "Hermione, his trunk is missing, as is all of his other stuff." Hermione was taken aback by this statement; clearly she had thought that he was exaggerating. He was about to take her up to his dorm to prove Harry's absence to her, when Angelina Johnson broke the Gryffindors oath of silence towards the three.

"There's a letter here," she said with a frown. "It is addressed towards 'Gryffindor Tower,'" she made air quotes with her fingers when she said 'Gryffindor Tower.'

Hermione hurried over to her, and ripped open the letter with a frenzy that only she could pull off. She opened the letter, and began to read aloud, the entire House now gathered in the Common Room. She had just begun when Professor McGonagall burst in.

"What is going on in here?" she asked.

Oliver Wood, the Captain of the Quidditch team, explained, "Those two," he pointed at Hermione and Ron, "started to make a commotion, something about the Seeker not being here anymore. Angelina found a note, and we were about to read it."

The stern Transfiguration Professor sunk into an armchair, her lips twisting into a near snarl as she heard her Quidditch Captain refer to Harry Potter as 'the Seeker.' "Very well, continue," she said, waving her hands in a 'go on' gesture.

Hermione took this, correctly, as a prompt to begin to read.

As she read, it became apparent to the students of Gryffindor House just how badly they had treated their young peer. A few felt legitimately guilty, though others were worried for more superficial reasons. Namely, how this would look on their records if it was leaked to the Daily Prophet or Witch Weekly.

A male and female sixth year looked particularly broken up about the whole thing, as the girl wiped a tear from her eye.

Minerva grabbed the letter from Hermione as she finished reading. Just as it had been read, it was brief but meaningful. A tear cascaded down the stern teacher's cheek as she learned of her young student's treatment.

Why was she only now learning of her own House's treatment towards one of her pupils? Was she that bad of a professor?

She gave a disappointed look at her Lions, before marching out of the Common Room with the letter still in her hand, intending to show it to Albus. Surely he could help find Harry?

* * *

Somewhere in the North Sea, a small, rugged island could be found. This place hosted some of the worst creatures ever imagined: Dementors, and their charges, the worst convicts of Wizarding Britain.

Within these walls lay the lone innocent man who had been imprisoned. He had been framed by one of his best friends for the murder of his best friend, and thrown into Azkaban without trial.

Indeed, Sirius Black had quite the grudge against Peter Pettigrew.

If there was one thing that he regretted, it was running after Peter that night, the night that Lily and James Potter had died. He had been so caught up in revenge that he had completely forgotten about his godson, for whom he was supposed to care.

Perhaps, if he hadn't acted so rashly, he would still be there, raising his godson … but he wasn't, and it was about time that he got over it and himself.

A short, rather chubby man with a lime green bowler hat atop his head walked by his cell, discussing something with the jailer.

As they drew near, Sirius thought he heard, "Yes ... Harry Potter ... ran away ... very tragic."

"Excuse me," he said, drawing the attention of the jailer and the irritating-looking man. "What did you say?"

The portly man looked down his nose at him. "Bah! As if you care, Black, after what you did to his family! Well, if you must know, young Harry Potter ran away from Hogwarts - Merlin knows why. I thought you'd have known, after all, it's been all over the news ... oh, I forgot: you don't get the news down here, do you?"

The man walked away, chuckling to himself, but Sirius had heard enough. His godson had run away from Hogwarts, from the safest place in Britain. He turned into a large black dog, the animal form that he had mastered so long ago with Peter, Remus and ... James.

His thin frame was able to slide between the bars barely, but he managed. He padded down the shadowed corridors of Azkaban, ignoring the comments of his now ex-inmates and his insane cousin Bellatrix's "Ooh, doggy!"

He had a godson to find and rescue.

* * *

Six months had passed since Harry James Potter had run away from Hogwarts. Six months since Sirius Orion Black's infamous escape from Azkaban. Six months without any sight of either of them.

The 1992-1993 school year was beginning at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and the faculty and students were beginning to lose hope that they would ever find the young hero ever again.

If there was one benefit of Harry's departure, it was that the bond within Gryffindor House had strengthened substantially. Where some may have turned against each other, the whole House remembered their Head's words that they were a family, and acted like one.

This new closeness between House members extended from seventh to first years. The benefits if this were shown early that year, as within the first few weeks of term, Ginny Weasley's odd behaviour was noticed. This resulted in closer observation of the girl, and eventually, the report of a dangerous artefact to Headmaster Dumbledore.

Albus barely slept anymore as he constantly searched for Harry, but even he began to fear that perhaps Black had found the boy first, and finished what he started with the Potters: their complete and utter destruction.

Albus believed that the main reason that Harry had yet to be found, assuming that he was still alive, was because of Minister Fudge's incompetence. The fool had made England a joke within the ICW, and, as a result, many of the neighbouring countries refused to help Britain with the search for their missing hero.

Little did they know that Harry Potter did not exist anymore. The boy that had once been Harry Potter now went to a school in Rome, Italy, called la Scuola Della Befana.

In Italian folklore, Befana was a kindly old witch, the equivalent of Santa Claus for the Muggles. Every year at the Epiphany, during the first couple of weeks of the New Year, she would deliver presents at the doors of small children.

According to magical history, she had been the magical version of Mother Theresa, and had even started up a Magical orphanage. She had also been a very powerful witch and, according to legend, had played a role in the eventual death of Morgan LeFay.

The school was actually placed within the deserted Coliseum in Rome. Along with the standard vacations, they also had a week off at Easter as the Pope, who was aware of the Magical community, performed the Easter Vigil mass.

That September of 1992, something occurred, something that had not happened in quite a while at Befana's. There was a new student, a young boy named Adriano Nero, who was signed up by his father, Pasquale Nero.

If the students or staff had looked further into it, they may have realized that Adriano was similar to Hadrian, which was the root of the name Harry. That, combined with the last name 'Black', would have ended the investigation for Harry Potter very quickly.

As it was, no one did, and so Adriano and Pasquale (who had chosen his name based on the amusement it gave him) lived in peace for the next few years.

* * *

**A/N: **: I generally try to update once a week, usually on the weekend, and most chapters should be 4-5000 words (this was shorter than normal). Hopefully this story will be a lot better than my first Fanfiction. It will be Harry/Katie, and only Harry/Katie. Also, I hereby swear not to abandon this fic. I hate it when authors do that.

**Italy**: Honestly, I started this off because I wanted Harry to go to Italy, where I'm from (I apologize beforehand if the dialect I know is different that others). But then, I started to think about it, and actually got a really good idea for how an Italian school would work. Hint: Hogwarts is like Medieval Europe, when England was great. So Befana's would be like...

Also, the Befana lore is the tale that my family knows. It may not be the same as the original, and the whole Morgan part was completely false, but oh well.  
As a side note, Catholicism won't play a major role in the fic, so please don't get on my case for bringing religion into it.

**Golden Trio:** Ron and Hermione's negatives aspects will be present, but they won't be senselessly bashed either. They simply won't be the best of friends with the new and improved Harry.

I think that's it, so let me know how it was.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: Oddly enough, I don't own the rights to the Harry Potter franchise. Funny how that works, huh?  
Chapter 2

* * *

Albus Dumbledore massaged his face tiredly. The plans for the TriWizard Tournament had finally been completed, after close to two years of negotiation.

The Tournament was supposed to have occurred in 1994, the same year that the Quidditch World Cup was hosted in England. However, the World Cup finals had ended in violence from drunken Death Eaters and other such hooligans.

Had the opponents of the Irish been any other country, the Tournament would have gone on that year. But no, the Bulgarian government reacted badly to the show of hostility towards foreign peoples in England, and the Northern European countries gathered on behalf of Durmstrang Institute, the premier Magical school in Scandinavia and the Slavic regions.

Shortly after, Durmstrang had formally withdrawn from the Tournament, citing Ministerial incompetence as the cause - not that Albus could blame them. Not when the English Minister was a man like Cornelius Fudge, who was indirectly responsible for Black's escape from Azkaban, and lack of capture in the years since.

Without any other options, Albus had opened negotiations with another school: Befana's School of Sorcery. It was the only other school in Europe with a population able to support an endeavour such as the Tournament, but their anti-Muggleborn rules had him a little antsy.

Like Durmstrang, Befana's had no tolerance for admitting Muggleborn students. The only difference between the two schools were the levels of paranoia - while no one knew where Durmstrang was located, everyone knew exactly where Befana's was: the Coliseum, in Rome.

The message was clear to visitors throughout the Wizarding World: like the Ancient Romans before them, they were unafraid of battle. If someone had a problem with them, they knew right where they were.

Some considered it to be less about paranoia and more about arrogance, while others argued that it sent the intended message well enough.

The curriculum was not terribly unlike Hogwarts, though it featured more physical activities. Also, certain taboo subjects like necromancy were explored, though with caution and very little detail. The Professors also made sure to stress to their pupils to use these Magics responsibly.

The other change that Befana's brought with them to the TriWizard Tournament was that they required a slight change in the rules: instead of all competitors being over the age of seventeen, they simply must have written their O.W.L's; any sixth or seventh year could compete.

Albus had had no choice but to agree: not only was it a plausible requirement, but the Headmistress, a fierce looking woman named Lupa, frightened him.

Finally, the day had come. The students from Beauxbatons and Befana's would be arriving via their intimidating methods of transportation, during the surprisingly warm October of 1996.

* * *

Harry, or Adriano as he was now called, leaned back comfortably in his seat. He, along with the rest of his school, was in a Magically expanded chariot. Even though they had left only a couple of hours before, they were already near Antwerp. Only a few minutes ago, they had been in Brussels.

Such was the speed of the tawny horses that sprinted along the Belgian countryside, all descendants of the fabled Arion, the Lord of Horses.

Harry preferred to call him the Lord of Disturbing Origins. According to mythology, he was the horse-child of Neptune and his sister Ceres, who had been in the form of a Fury, one of the tormentors employed by Pluto.

The nice thing about Italy, in regards to the school, or Legion, as they referred to is, was that even though everyone knew about Adriano's true identity, no one cared. It was more of an open secret, where it was just easier for everyone to pretend that his identity was a mystery. With the Italians, they simply didn't want to deal with Minister Fudge, the disgrace of a British Minister for Magic.

Besides that, they, unlike their British counterparts, didn't heap praise on something that a baby did. To them, this did one of two things; it either convinced them of how lucky he was, or told them that Dark Wizards in the United Kingdom have seriously low standards for Voldemort to be considered their elite.

It likely had something to do with their strict, Roman upbringing.

That was another major difference between Italy and Britain: where the British stayed in their glory days of the Renaissance, the Italians had never left Ancient Rome, when their Empire had extended well into Africa, and all the way West to England.

Adriano wondered if the French school would be stuck in the Napoleonic Era of the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries. Judging by Britain and Italy, it was probable.

The chariot wheels began to rattle even more as the trek moved on to the English Channel. While Arion's children could move so quickly that they could literally glide over water, it was extremely uncomfortable.

Indeed, it could be considered a _nightmare._

Adriano shook his head in sadness at the pettiness of his internal pun. Another sixth year gave him a concerned look.

"Are you okay, Centurion?" she asked in Italian. Though they had taken mandatory English lessons the year before, they all still preferred to speak in Italian amongst themselves.

Adriano glared playfully at the Libyan girl. She was fairly pretty, with hazel eyes, dark brown hair, and dark brown skin. Aysha had been one of his best friends since he had joined the Legion in second year. They had had a brief relationship in fifth year, but they had eventually agreed to stay as friends.

Noticing that he still hadn't answered, he said, "Of course I am, Centurion. Maybe you should be more concerned with Matteo." He motioned with his head towards a boy with short brown hair, and a definite green tinge to his cheeks.

He looked like he would lose his lunch at any moment. The fact that he had had an obvious crush on Aysha since third year made it all the better.

She returned the playful glare at him, though it was tainted with pride. Aysha's main character flaw was in her hubris; she had been exceptionally proud when she had made Centurion at the beginning of fifth year.

"Are you looking forward to Hogwarts?" asked Damon. The lanky, blonde male was of Greek descent, and while the Greeks and Romans rarely coexisted well, he and Adriano were very close friends. He was also a Centurion, though from a different cohort then Harry and Aysha.

Adriano smirked at Damon. His friend had been making unsubtle hints at his true identity since they had arrived back at Befana's in the beginning of September.

"I wouldn't know," he said innocently. "Blaise hasn't told me much about Hogwarts."

Adriano had met Blaise Zabini during the summer between second and third years. The dark skinned boy had been staying with his grandfather for a month while his mother went on yet another honeymoon. The Slytherin had noticed Adriano and immediately recognized him as Harry Potter.

He had been pleasantly surprised when Blaise didn't report him to the British Ministry, and they soon struck up a friendship that continued throughout the summers. Though they weren't as close as he was with Aysha or Damon, he still considered Blaise to be one of his better friends.

"Right," Damon drawled, giving a disbelieving look to Aysha, who rolled her eyes.

The conversation continued for a few more minutes as they changed into their formal wear for the Feast. Aysha complained, as per usual, about her toga, and how out of style it was. In Adriano's opinion, the togas weren't too bad, especially on Aysha. It really emphasized her legs and her ... er, personality.

Finally - though that was a gross exaggeration, as it had only taken them a few hours - they slowed to a halt, the blur of the Scottish countryside becoming recognizable. He was certain that he saw the train tracks for the Hogwarts Express at one point.

He licked his lips nervously as they approached the gawking students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He hoped that they wouldn't try to separate him and Sirius, or Pasquale as he was now known. He had enjoyed his years with his godfather and new godmother, but he wouldn't put it past Fudge to throw him right back in Azkaban without a trial.

Again.

At least the Italians would have enough loyalty to defend one of their citizens from unjust incarceration.

* * *

Lavender was comfortably nestled into the crook of his arm as they watched the other schools arrive. Not far from them, Hermione and Terry Boot were in the same position. The brainy Gryffindor had been in a relationship with the Ravenclaw since fourth year, though it had surprised many.

However, Terry had proved to have a foresight that many others had lacked, as the bushy haired girl had developed into a beautiful young woman.

In Ron's eyes, naturally, Lavender was far better looking than Hermione. When he had told her that, she had called him sweet.

Later that night, Dean and Seamus had diagnosed him as whipped.

He and Lavender had been dating since their first Hogsmeade trip, back in third year. Ron still remembered it; Seamus and Dean had bet him ten galleons apiece that he didn't have the guts to ask her out on a date.

He still wasn't sure how they had known that he was crushing on her. He suspected that they had heard him talking in his dreams, but he sincerely hoped otherwise, as that would be mortifying for both him and Lavender, as his dreams back then had been quite steamy when it came to her. It was all her fault, of course.

She and Parvati had tried to rebel against Hogwarts rules by wearing skirts, but they had decided to wear the shortest ones that they could get the House Elves to make. She had dropped her bag on the way to Divination, and bent over to pick it up ... and Ron had been right behind her to see the view.

She had later confessed to him that it was intentional, a ploy to gain his attention. If that was her goal, then she had definitely succeeded.

The couples were watching as the other schools arrived. It was clearly their way of trying to intimidate the competition, as if to say that they were stronger than the others based off of their form of magical transport.

Hermione and Terry were discussing their own opinions; Hermione arguing that it was infantile and immature, Terry playing the Devil's advocate. His responses seemed to consist of distracting her with kisses, and saying that it was traditional.

Bored of his friends' foreplay, the youngest male Weasley changed his position with Lavender, so that the buxom brunette was in front of him. Her back rested against his chest as his arms wound around her stomach, his hands rubbing her stomach gently. He then began to pepper gentle kisses against her neck and shoulder.

When Dumbledore had discussed the TriWizard Tournament with them, the four friends had conversed about whether or not they would compete. Lavender had decided against it, feeling that she wouldn't be able to do Hogwarts proud. Ron had tried to convince her that she would do great, but he was glad that she would stay safe.

He, on the other hand, had chosen that he would enter his name. While he may not have been the best student in his year, he still yearned to achieve something that none of his brothers had.

Likewise, Hermione had chosen to enter, to prove to people like Malfoy that Muggleborns were just as capable and deserving of doing Magic as Purebloods were. Terry had sided with Lavender, not wanting to jeopardize his academics.

The Beauxbatons delegate arrived in a flying chariot driven by palomino Pegasi, though Hermione and Terry said they were called Abraxans. The French students were all dressed in a pale blue, lightweight material that Ron doubted would stand the test of Scotland's winter.

Their Headmistress was a giantess of a woman. She managed to mispronounce Dumbledore's name ("Dumbly-door!"), but Hagrid was clearly enchanted by what had to be one of the first women he had ever seen that was his size.

Then appeared what seemed to be a blur making its way to the gates of Hogwarts. As it approached the elite school, it solidified to show a few tawny horses sprinting at an unnatural speed, pulling a chariot behind them.

The chariot was completely golden, with gilded patterns covering it. On the back was a large eagle that seemed to stick out of the ancient vehicle.

"Bit of an Ancient Rome motif, don't you think?" Hermione murmured to Terry. Like Ron was with Lavender, he stood behind his bookworm of a girlfriend, holding her close.

"It makes sense, I guess," the dark skinned Ravenclaw replied. The racism in the Wizarding World's racism clearly extended past the purity of one's blood: other than Terry, Blaise Zabini and Dean Thomas were the only coloured students in their year. Continuing his train of thought, he said, "It would explain the golden chariot, and the eagle is a symbol of Jupiter, but..."

"What in Merlin's name are those horses?" she asked, knowing exactly what he was going to say. Judging by his affirming nod, she had been correct.

The chariot had finally come to a complete halt, a trail of dust settling behind it. The door swung open, and out stepped the most intimidating woman any of them had ever seen.

While Madame Maxine was frightening because of her height and the fact that she could probably step on any of the students without realizing it, the Italian Headmistress had a look on her face that promised pain for anyone who crossed her.

It was akin to Professor McGonagall's, but a hundred times more frightening.

She also had a look to her that seemed ... if the sixth years didn't know any better, they would have compared her to a wolf.

Maybe, like McGonagall, she had an Animagus form as some sort of a canine. It would definitely explain the wolfish smirk tugging at her lips, and what seemed to be a yellow tint to her eyes. Could she be a werewolf?

'Harry would've loved to see this,' Ron thought to himself, before mentally kicking himself. Harry had been a sore point for him for years after he ran away - indeed, it was his continued depression over the event that had driven Dean and Seamus to give him that dare.

After Harry's exodus, Gryffindor House had been in a tumult. Eventually, they had made a bond even stronger than ever before, forgiving Ron and Hermione. In turn, they had forgiven their House for their treatment. It had been unexpectedly mature for a pair of eleven year olds, but the event had made them so.

Without that new bond, he doubted that they would have noticed Ginny's odd behaviour, much to his shame. Lockhart had barely made it through the year. Though he hadn't left of his own will, many of his fans were disenchanted when their children got terrible grades for their O.W.L's and N.E.W.T's, and he had been forced to run for the hills, his reputation - and golden smile - in tatters.

That had ushered in a new era of Defence Against the Dark Arts Professors, in that the next teacher actually showed a degree of competence. Indeed, he was such a good Professor that he stayed on the job for multiple years, the first in what was rumoured to be multiple decades.

It was a miracle that Professor Lupin was still employed, with bigots like Malfoy in the school, and whose words carried weight in the Ministry. However, Lupin had managed to keep his condition a secret from all but a few Ravenclaws and the four friends.

Ron believed that people like Malfoy hadn't figured it out yet because of the copious amount of inbreeding involved with his conception.

He tried to hide his stiffening as he thought of his lost friend, but Lavender evidently felt him. She turned around to face him and kissed him sweetly, her tongue darting into his mouth briefly. "What's wrong?"

"Its nothing, love. Just ... thinking." He had only first told her that he loved her a week ago, but already it felt completely natural.

"Don't strain yourself," Hermione, who had overheard them, quipped.

He was about to make a snarky response, or perhaps give her the middle finger, when he heard Su Li. Only a few people away, he could easily hear her distinctive Asian accent muttering, "Rowena's tits!"

Ron turned around to see what she and a few other older students were gawking at, and nearly fainted at what he saw. Messy black hair, emerald eyes and glasses...

"Harry?"

* * *

Adriano had to fight down a smirk as he noticed the gawking stares of the older students who recognized him, and the confusion of the youngsters who didn't. He gave a meaningful blink - at least, as meaningful of a blink as he could manage - to Blaise. They would have to find a way to continue their friendship without drawing unwanted attention towards the Zabini family.

He saw a few familiar faces in the crowd: an Asian Ravenclaw who he thought was named Cho, a redheaded Hufflepuff who he was certain was named Susan, and a certain blonde Slytherin that went by the name of Draco Malfoy.

He could see the confused looks at his formal uniform - a white toga with a purple sash identifying him as a Centurion. The only difference between him and the rest of the Legion was the sash, which was also worn by seven others, including Aysha and Damon. Then there were two who wore entirely purple togas.

Those of lower standing, instead of wearing purple sashes, wore blue. In Ancient Rome, purple indicated nobility, whereas blue simply showed that the person was free. Slaves were generally dressed in a dirty, mustard shade of brown, which happened to be the colour of the school's House Elves' tunics.

He would have been cold, considering the harsh Scottish weather, except he was capable of a Warming Charm. It really wasn't a difficult spell to do, and he couldn't understand why the rest of his school insisted on shivering.

Marching next to Aysha, his posture perfect and his gaze stolid, he finally found what, or rather who, he was looking for. A girl with bushy brown hair, and a male with red hair, as well as two others that seemed vaguely familiar (the female was named after a flower or something, wasn't she? Jasmine, maybe?) were staring at him, mouths agape in evident astonishment.

Even Malfoy seemed lost for words.

"Why's everyone staring at me?" he asked Aysha quietly, though it was loud enough to be heard by those close to them. Not that the Englishmen understood, very few bothered to learn Italian. Most of them had the mindset that learning that language would never come in handy. "I didn't forget to wear clothes, did I?"

It was clear to Adriano that his friend was trying very hard to keep her amusement off of her face. "Unfortunately, no. More walking, less talking."

"Of course, Centurion," he answered with a smirk as they continued to walk in silence, Ron and Hermione still looking shocked.

The Headmaster introduced himself and his school to the Consul. Adriano had to block his amusement when he noticed the old man fidgeting under Lupa's harsh gaze. Even after four years at Befana's, he still wasn't used to it. Jupiter knew how many times it was directed at him.

They were given seats at the Hufflepuff table, as the two hostile Houses of Slytherin and Gryffindor weren't allowed to house the schools because of their rivalry, and the French had already joined the Ravens.

Dumbledore made a short speech after the Hogwarts students had all filtered in, before the dug in to the food. "Hello, I'm Adriano Nero. How can I help you?" he asked the red haired girl he had seen earlier. Of course, he had asked in Italian, mainly to mess with her, so she looked confused.

"What? Come off it, Harry, we all know it's you," she responded with a derisive noise.

He gave a look of confusion to Damon, knowing that Aysha wouldn't play along, and was rewarded by his best friend translating it into Italian. Naturally, Damon had some fun with the translation, as he said, "She wants to engage in a sexual relationship with you."

A few of the other students from La Scuola who sat nearby snorted at that, because the translation came out slightly more vulgar. "Harry?" he asked, in faux befuddlement. "Who is Harry?"

Apparently, Susan knew enough Italian to understand that. "Harry as in Harry Potter, as in you!" she nearly shouted in exasperation. Her friend, a pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails, put a hand on her shoulder in warning.

Harry couldn't prevent the next comment, still in Italian for Damon to translate: "Is it your time of the month, or something?"

Aysha looked like she was going to slap him, and the others nearby didn't bother to hide their chuckles. Damon, for his part, kept a straight face.

"Adriano confesses his surprise that you English people really are arrogant. Do you honestly think that every dark haired, green eyed male you see is your celebrity?" As Susan went to interrupt, he ended any other arguments with finality. "And besides, isn't Harry Potter supposed to have a scar?"

* * *

**A/N:** Another short-ish chapter, my apologies. I was surprised how many alerts this got after one chapter - was it the originality of having a monogamous Harry/Katie pairing?

**Realism**: I'm trying to achieve some degree of realism in this fic - thus the lack of a harem, or super-powered Harry - so you may notice something in this chapter that never happened in canon, but does happen in real life...

While I'm sort of on the subject of originality, I'm trying to keep this as original as possible without making it ridiculous. Step 1: Write a GoF story that doesn't include Dumbledore's speeches that everyone has read dozens of times.  
Not sure when the next chapter will come out as grade twelve started for me this year, but I'm aiming for next weekend. It will feature the inevitable meeting with Ron and Hermione - which, let's be honest, is just an excuse for me to add exposition and drama. Also, I might introduce Katie into the mix.

Who do you guys think will be the Hogwarts Champion?

Onto the subject of bashing, I've decided that Lupin, and at some points Ginny, will be bashed somewhat more strongly than others.

What did you guys think? Review, and I'll make an empty promise regarding my updating schedule!


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** No disclaimer is complete without a witty and/or sarcastic comment regarding one's ownership.  
Chapter 3

* * *

Adriano smiled to himself as he woke up, the previous day's events slowly filtering through the morning haze. Susan was still asleep, with an adorable frown on her face. Her head rested on his bare chest, their legs still interlocked somewhat from the night before.

He smirked as he fully remembered all that had happened. After Damon's query about how he could be Harry Potter without a scar, she had whipped out her wand and cast Finite Incantatem. The surprise on her face had been most amusing when her spell had no effects, and it had only been enhanced when he revealed that he could speak English. It had been more so that he could flirt with her then for any practical reason, though it would be easier without having to explain himself.

It still surprised him how unimaginative wizards and witches were, whether they be British, Italian, or from any other part of the world. Instead of using an easy Glamour on his scar, as she had suspected, or even a Disillusionment spell, both of which would have been dispelled by the Finite, he and Pasquale had thought outside of the box.

They had used Wards, specifically, a Notice Me Not Ward, attached to his scar. This piece of magic was generally used by people who did not want to draw attention to themselves, such as students in the library who wanted some quiet time. Thus, most magical beings would not pay attention to his forehead, which was why Susan had not even thought to look at his scar until Damon mentioned it.

In addition, he had tied several other disguising and concealing Wards to it, so it would take a great deal of spell-casting from an expert like Dumbledore to even have a chance of breaking through them. Just in case, he had sewn them all into a rune carved into his shoulder and biceps, a rune that wasn't taught at Hogwarts, so he was hoping that they just thought it was an elaborate but meaningless design.

After Susan's examination and his confession of his knowledge of the English language, they had talked seriously for a few minutes. He had explained how the Legion worked, what classes they were, and how he was hoping to be Praetor next year.

Somehow, he knew that he'd be explaining that a lot, especially once Hermione got to him, unless she had changed. And seeing as she was clearly dating a Ravenclaw, judging by their coziness, he doubted she had.

Speaking ... er, thinking of coziness, where was he? He continued to run through the events of the night before, and he remembered walking Susan to her dorms after dinner, like a gentleman, and kissing her goodnight.

One thing had led to another, and sure enough, he was in the sixth year Hufflepuff dormitory for females. Which meant that the four-quartered bed he was in was Susan's, and the feminine body partially on top of him was also Susan's.

The sheets had been raked down slightly during the night, giving him a view of her back, rear, and legs. He felt a certain sense of accomplishment, knowing that his godfather would be proud that he had already shagged an attractive girl.

He craned his neck at an odd angle to kiss her softly. Blue eyes fluttered open before closing again. He thought for a moment that she had fallen back asleep, so he let his eyes wander her closed off area.

Back when he was Harry Potter, he and Ron had always been curious what the other dormitories looked like. From what he could see with the drapes still covering the rest of the dorm from view, it seemed homey and comfy, much like he had expected from the House of the Loyal and Hard Working. There was a pair of lacy panties thrown to the side, he noted with some amusement.

She snuggled further into his side as if to let him know that she was still awake. The Sun was shining through the drapes, so Adriano murmured, "Susan, it's time to wake up, sweetheart."

The redheaded girl repeated her action by burying her head into her shoulder and wrapping her lithe body around him. Smirking, he reached around her with both arms and sat up suddenly, jolting her so that he was now holding her bridal style.

She tried to ask, "What's happening?", or so he assumed, because her voice turned to a squeal as he rose to his feet, both teenagers still undressed.

"I said, wake up, sweetheart. It's got to be nearing noon by now."

Susan huffed as she splayed around, but quickly realized that if Hannah, her best friend and gossip extraordinaire, wasn't there, it must have been rather late. Had Hannah been present, she would have already investigated the noises, and if she was already awake, it would be late morning.

She went limp at the unfortunate epiphany that she would probably be late for lunch, and pouted cutely. "But I don't wanna get up," she complained, but after Adriano lowered her to the bed again, she finally got to her own feet.

She fumbled around in her trunk until she found her pink bathrobe, a gift from her Auntie that she found somewhat embarrassing, but she wore nonetheless. She made sure to bend over as she did so, wiggling her bum for him. She pulled the garment on before turning back to her lover.

Adriano winced; this was the part that he always hated. It was the part that had made him a noble Gryffindor that made it so difficult to hurt some girls' feelings. Susan bit her lip with some apprehension as she tightened the string of her robe. "So, Adriano, did last night ... mean anything?"

His downward glance was all she needed for an answer, but he spoke anyways. "If it's any consolation, last night was one of the best of my life."

She had a mock offended look on her face now. Whether it was just for show or not, he wasn't sure, but he hoped it was not just a facade. "Just one of the best nights? Not _the_ best?" she teased.

He smirked. Maybe she wasn't hurt after all. "Aysha and I had some pretty crazy times last year; it would be tough to beat them. We would need several days, a lot of whipped cream, and a hot tub to get anywhere close."

"Oh," Susan said, twirling her hair awkwardly. "So you two are together?"

"No," Adriano chuckled. He was glad to hear that he had lost all trace of an English accent. It had become really tiring to constantly have to Charm his voice when he woke up to lose it. "We used to be, but it didn't really work out."

She blew some hair out of her face as an awkward silence descended on them. "Well, I'm going to go take a shower now," she said.

"Oh? Mind if I join?"

She gave an overly sweet smile. "Maybe if this had been the best night of your life, but since it wasn't, there's no reason to continue it."

He grimaced. "I should've known that would come back to bite me."

"The doors that way," she said as she pulled back the drapes and pointed towards the door. It wasn't very inconspicuous; he easily could have found it on his own. She then walked towards the door, presumably to go the showers, swaying her hips tauntingly.

Adriano put his clothes on quickly. He wasn't sure how long she would take to shower, but he doubted she would take more than a half hour. He then walked around her area with his wand out, tapping certain objects.

After all, if there was one thing his godfather would be proud of other than him getting laid, it would be pranking the hell out of Hogwarts.

He quickly left the dormitories after that, and found his way to the Legion's barracks. They had already managed to set up bunks all over the massive carriage, hut he had no difficulty finding his and locating his bags. He took a quick shower and scribbled his name and school on a piece of spare paper - as no one actually used papyrus anymore - before heading back to the school.

He passed by several students from all the schools, exchanging friendly nods with his fellow Legionnaires. A few French students milled about in their powder blue uniforms, shivering from their lack of ability to cast a Warming Charm. Would this be his competition if he was picked from the Goblet, students who couldn't cast Warming Charms?

The previous night, Dumbledore had given a spiel about how the Goblet of Fire worked, how only N.E.W.T students could compete, and the rewards for winning.

The thousand galleons didn't mean much to Adriano. Sure, it was a lot of money, but between the Potter fortune and Pasquale, he already had more than enough money for his lifetime. Eternal glory was the reason. Even if winning a Tournament didn't grant him glory for the rest of his life, his main goal was to accomplish something important with his own virtues and abilities, not something he did as a baby.

He got several curious looks from the older Hogwarts students, most of whom recognized him, or thought that they did, as he walked towards the Goblet of Fire. It really wasn't that fool-proof of an object; anyone could perform a Switching Spell on someone else's parchment, or simply ask an older student to enter their name.

After he dropped his name into the Goblet, he strode purposefully towards the Hufflepuff table, where Aysha and Damon were sitting. He heard footsteps behind him even as he began to butter a slice of toast for his lunch, but ignored them.

Damon gave him a mischievous smirk. "So, Adriano, where were you last night?"

He yawned in an exaggerated manner that he knew would infuriate his friend. "Scotland."

Damon's eye twitched, while Aysha giggled into her hand. "Where, specifically, were you last night?"

Adriano finished his toast and took a swig from his goblet. He nearly gagged; he had forgotten how awful pumpkin juice was. Why was that the only beverage available? "Three guesses," he said sarcastically. They had last seen him going with Susan, an attractive, busty female, and they had to ask where he was?

"Thought so," Damon said, clapping a hand on his shoulder, as if in pride. "Always knew you had it in you."

"Technically," he pointed out. "_Susan_ had it in her." There was a cough behind him, the type that he recognized as an affronted, prudish cough. "How can I help you?" he asked as he turned around, making no attempts to hide his exasperation.

Sure enough, as he had guessed, Hermione and Ron were standing there, with the black Ravenclaw and ditzy looking Gryffindor with them.

"Hello, Harry," Hermione said, in a rather stubborn tone.

* * *

It took Adriano a while, but finally, he managed to convince Hermione, Ron, and the two strangers, Lavender Brown (who he remembered slightly) and Terry Boot that he wasn't Harry Potter.

Well, it was more like they were trying to appease him by pretending that he wasn't Harry, though Ron and Lavender seemed to believe him when their own attempts at the Counter Spell had failed. Hermione and Terry had been more inquisitive, trying several other methods before they finally gave up.

The four British students then sat down at their table, somewhat rudely, considering that Adriano was saving a spot for Susan's best friend. What was her name? Lana? Hannah? Hannah, that was it! Her bust wasn't quite as awe inspiring as Susan's, but then again, he had seen very few who could compete with her in that department. However, Hannah had one of the best rears that he had seen in a long time, and he had been looking forward to her sitting next to him.

Was he being a shallow, superficial arse? Most definitely, but he wanted to make the best out of this trip to England before everyone went insane about him and his godfather.

"So, Har-er, Adriano," Hermione corrected herself hastily. "What can you tell us about your school?"

Damon rolled his eyes; Adriano had implied to him about how studious and book-wormy she was, but was that really the first question she asked?

Ignoring his slightly immature friend's noises of complaint, he explained, "Well, for starters, we have about fifteen hundred students in the Legion."

"Fifteen hundred? That's a lot, considering that there only seems to be a hundred here. And why are you calling your school the Legion?" she asked, rattling off of her questions quickly.

"First off, we didn't bring every single student here, only the upper fourth. And if you'll give me a minute without interrupting me, I'll explain about the Legion and all of our titles." Hermione looked suitably abashed.

"Instead of Houses, we're divided into twelve cohorts," Aysha elaborated. Each cohort is led by two Centurions, generally one from each gender, for every year from fifth to seventh. Basically, they're like Prefects."

"All of the regular students are simply called Legionnaires," Damon said, adding in his own two Knuts. "And our version of the Head Boy and Girl are the Praetors, and they are always seventh years. We call Lupa our Consul, instead of Headmistress."

"But in Ancient Rome, wouldn't there be two Consuls?" Hermione interrupted, seemingly unable to keep quiet. Adriano was starting to realize why Snape had called her an 'insufferable know it all' back in first year.

"Yes," he said, rather impatiently. "But Ancient Rome also had a hell of a lot more Cohorts then just twelve."

"Yeah, yeah, enough of this talk about education," Ron said, grabbing a bowl of bouillabaisse. "What's Quidditch like in Italy?"

"Specifically in Italy, the main league is the Serie A," Damon said, glad that he was talking about something more up his alley. "The big teams are AC and Inter Milan, and Juventus, though Napoli, Lazio, and Roma are also contenders."

"What teams do you support?" Terry asked. While nowhere near the fanatic that Ron was, he was still a fan of the sport.

"Fiorentina," Damon said immediately. "They're one of those teams that always hover around the upper half, but haven't been able to push ahead of the pack for a few years now."

"I'm not a huge fan of Quidditch," Aysha said. "Though I'm partial to Roma and Lazio when I do watch, especially since their pitch is so close to the school. And my dad played for Patonga."

"What about you, Adriano?" Ron asked eagerly, wondering who his once upon a time best mate supported, while being in awe of the presence of the daughter of a Proudstick.

"I've always been a fan of Juventus," he confessed. "Ever since I went to my first Quidditch game. They have this up and coming Keeper, a kid named Giullare. No one really takes him seriously, because his name literally means 'Jester', but he's going to be a legend, I can just tell."

"How can you be so certain?" Ron wondered aloud.

Adriano smiled, a reassuring yet tired type of smile. "Because he's in my cohort, and we've been on the same team for the past five years."

Ron gaped at that; Viktor Krum was nineteen, and this Giullare guy was only seventeen? Lavender spoke up for the first time since the conversation moved to Quidditch, "What position do you play?"

"Seeker," Damon said, even as Adriano said, "Chaser."

"You both play?" Hermione asked, confused at how they replied at the same time.

"No," he answered. "I'm a starting Chaser, but I'm also the back up Seeker." Ron was gaping at the confession once again, since when did Harry play Chaser? "Damon is a back-up Beater for his Cohort."

"How many teams does your school have?" Ron asked, keeping the topic at Quidditch.

"Twelve," Damon answered. "One for each cohort, and they face every team twice. There's a game every few days, so it keeps it exciting, although sometimes you have to wait a couple of weeks until you play again, and sometimes you only have a few days."

"Are any of you on a team?" Adriano asked.

Ron answered with pride evident, "Aye, I'm the Keeper for Gryffindor."

He went to ask another, likely Quidditch-related question (maybe about what brooms they used), but Adriano suddenly nudged his Greek friend.

"What?" Damon asked. He was an impatient person, especially when the topic regarded something that interested him.

The only response was his friend pointing towards the entrance hall where, sure enough, a certain redhead was walking in, and steered herself to the Goblet.

Damon chuckled in anticipation, rubbing his hands together. "What did you do?" he asked, though it came out less strict and more eager than he meant for it.

"I'll let her enter her name first," Adriano answered benevolently.

"What are you talking about?" Lavender asked, probably wondering if there was gossip about Susan. He had seen the glint in her eyes when she looked at his most recent lover; could she be jealous that Susan had a more impressive chest?

He snapped his middle finger and thumb together in response just as Susan began walking towards them, and suddenly, all of her clothes disappeared.

Well, not all of them. Just her casual clothes; her underclothes still remained. The strangest part? Neither she nor any of the teachers seemed to notice.

"Oh, I was hoping she would wear those panties," Harry muttered. 'Panties' was a slight exaggeration, as the thong she wore barely covered the importation parts.

The entire school was gawking at her now, and Hermione slapped Terry rather hard when she saw him staring unabashedly. He didn't react, eyes still firmly focussed on the lovely Bones.

"You know the only thing that would make this better?" Damon asked. Susan was looking at everyone warily, noticing that the entire male population was acting like they saw a Veela that had an allure so powerful, they couldn't even move.

"Got it covered," Adriano said with a smirk. Scanning the Hall, he winked at Blaise, who was ogling Susan's bum as she walked. The Zabini heir gave him a thumbs-up motion.

A mousy looking boy was taking pictures with a Muggle camera as Susan finally reached an empty seat, sitting next to Justin Finch-Fletchley.

One of her oldest friends, the Muggleborn's eyes were glued to her chest. "Why is everyone staring at me?" she asked out of the corner of her mouth, before she realized that he was looking at her breasts.

Adriano winced as he heard the slap, only to smirk as the next noise was the whooshing he was waiting for. Peeves the Poltergeist had been surprisingly easy to recruit; all he had to do was say his father and godfather were Prongs and Padfoot.

Peeves was known for many things, but one of his more notorious acts was dropping water balloons. So he was hoping that the teachers would assume that the two pranks weren't related, not that either of them could be traced back to him, as there was only circumstantial evidence.

"You, my friend, are the greatest person I have ever met," Damon said in awe as the balloon hit the heiress just below the neck, causing water to stream down her chest. Justin fainted next to her, and Terry looked like he was going to follow suit. "Was that a Rino and Lino invention?" he added, making both end with 'ee-no'.

"Indeed it was," Adriano answered. "Now quick, before the Professors get to her with a blanket."

Damon had hearts in his eyes as he looked at his best friend. "I love you, man," he said, and ran away, before rushing back. "In a totally heterosexual, manly way," he added, before running back to Susan.

He tapped her leg and arm with his wand, causing her clothes to reappear, much to the general displeasure of the other students. He then dried her off with a Drying Charm, causing Professor Sprout to turn back to her table and reseat herself.

"What's going on?" she asked him, wondering at all of the lustful gazes.

Damon smiled sadly, sympathetically, and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. He explained what had happened, "I'm so sorry about all of this, I didn't know he would do this."

"Do what?" she asked, burrowing into his shoulder. He began rubbing her back comfortingly, his mind still on that tiny thong she was wearing.

"My best friend's a dick..."

Adriano grunted in slight amusement several seats away. He knew Damon wouldn't implicate him, but he muttered anyways, "A dick who just got you laid."

* * *

It took another half hour for Hermione to stop ranting and implying that it was Adriano's fault that her relationship with Terry was basically over. By now, the five students (Aysha, Adriano, Hermione, Ron, and Lavender) were wandering the halls.

"Hey, Adriano?" Lavender asked, wanting an answer to something that was bugging her. "What Damon mean when he said 'Rino and Lino?'"

"That's what he calls me and my godfather," he answered, not seeing any reason to lie. "Rino is short for Adriano, and Lino is short for Pasqualino, though most call him Pasquale."

Hermione swiftly cut them off from their conversation about pranks, and turned it to...

"I had another question about your school," she said tentatively. "I had heard that you don't accept Muggleborns. Is that ... is that true?" she asked, as if she couldn't imagine Harry going to such a place.

'Well,' thought Adriano, 'She needs to realize that I am _not_ Harry Potter, or her vision of me, anyways.' Out loud, he said, "Yeah, its true."

Hermione gasped as though his confession wounded her. "How could you, Harry?" she asked before she could stop herself.

Adriano whirled on his heels to face her with a glare. "And that right there is why people like you are called 'Mudbloods'. I don't agree with the term usually, but when people like you make uneducated assumptions like that, it really pisses me off. So, yeah, I go to a non-Muggleborn school. Does that make me 'Dark' all of a sudden?

"The Legion has no Muggleborns, but do you want to know why? Britain has, what, five thousand Wizards and Witches? So they can afford to bring in Muggleborn students. Beauxbatons caters to French, Portuguese, and Spanish students, as well as Swiss and Belgian, and they only have a few Muggleborn; the ratio is something like one Muggleborn for every fifty Pure- or Half-Bloods.

"Then there is Durmstrang, which has students from basically all of Eastern Europe. They have a lot of Germans, Russians, Scandinavians, and all of the Slavic countries. Their Magical population is close to a hundred thousand, so obviously they can't have Muggleborns, or all of Eastern Europe would already know about Magic.

"And then we get to Befana's, which takes students from Italy, Greece, Albania, and Turkey in Europe, and then all of Western Africa North of and including the Congo. The rest of Africa goes to an Egyptian school, a place called Wafanyakazi Watumiagi - at least, that's what it's called in Swahili. The official name is in Arabic, but I have no clue how to pronounce, but that's off subject," he said, rubbing the back of his head.

"So basically, the Legion has as many Pure- and Half-Blooded Legionnaires from feeder countries as Durmstrang did, and we just can't afford to take in Muggleborns. As it is, Half-Bloods like me have to take a test. But I bet you didn't even research how many students we did have; the moment you saw or heard 'no Muggleborns' you immediately judged the whole school."

Adriano walked away after his rant, which had drawn several students from the other schools. The Beauxbatons students were nodding, especially the Muggleborns, who had to take tests to get into the school also, and the Slytherins were smirking at 'that uppity, nosy Mudblood' getting told off. The rest of the Hogwarts Muggleborns had inflective looks.

"Oh, and one other thing," Adriano said, turning around. Hermione was crying at his flaying, but he didn't care right now. He wasn't going to take her judging him for the whole year. "Stop calling me hairy, it makes me feel really self-conscious. Now I want a haircut."

A few students snickered as he walked away. Aysha and Ron jogged to catch up as another student from the Legion joined them and Lavender comforted Hermione.

"I'm sorry about how Hermione's been acting," Ron apologized. "Sometimes, she just gets something so stuck in her head, like you being Harry Potter, or a non-Muggleborn school being Dark, and she's just so stubborn that she doesn't let it go."

Adriano gave him a look that somehow managed to convey that he was impressed with how Ron took responsibility, even for something that wasn't his fault. He turned towards the other student that had joined them.

"Hello, Praetor," he said evenly, though there was a tint of sarcasm to it. The male was slightly taller than him at easily six feet, and was in good shape. His dark hair framed his defined jaw line, and was long enough to be pulled into a ponytail.

"Hello, Centurion." He had a deep voice, and it seemed like the pompousness in his tone was forced. After a moment, both Italians laughed quietly. "I thought I told you that you didn't need to call be Praetor?"

"Fine, _Captain_," he said. "This is Ron, by the way. He's a Keeper on the Gryffindor team. Ron, this is Gianluca, I told you about him before."

"Did you? I don't remember a Gianluca," Ron said, frowning in thought.

Adriano slapped his forehead. "Right, sorry, I only mentioned his last name: Giullare."

"The Keeper who you said was on your favourite team? 'You vent us', or something?"

Gianluca laughed, a loud, booming noise. "Yes, that's me. Pleasure to meet you." He stretched out his hand for Ron to shake, which he did. The handshake was firm, but without the malice of his shakes with Malfoy.

"Maybe we could play a few pick-up games during the year," Ron offered. Aysha rolled her eyes as the boys began to talk animatedly about Quidditch. "I haven't seen our Captain since breakfast, but she entered the Tourney. She's a Chaser, like you Rino - is it okay if I call you Rino? - and she wants to go pro. Merlin, she's already received invitations from Appleby and Caerphilly. Katie Bell is her name," he added.

Adriano was impressed at how his old friend had made a name for herself. Facing her in the Tournament would be a pleasure. He felt no ill will towards her - after all, she had only been twelve at the time, and twelve year olds don't always have their priorities in order. Besides, she had been basically mentoring under Angelina and Alicia; no, if he wanted revenge against anyone, it would be people like Ollie Wood, who should have known better than to act like that.

Ron was still speaking, "Oh, and that right there," he pointed to a red haired girl. "Is my little sister, Ginny." Harry took a better look at the lone Gryffindor girl, and glared at her as she looked at him. It wasn't the lustful look as though he was prize (in truth, he was rather used to it), or the piece of parchment that she was staring at, which he recognized as the Marauder's Map (after all, if the Magic of Befana's recognized him as Adriano Nero, so would the Map) that had him so enraged.

It was the rat perched on her shoulder.

* * *

**A/N:** There we go, most chapters should be this length ... excluding the Authors Notes, of course, which are here simply for the gratuitous increase in words, let's be honest.

Before you all get your panties in a twist, this is still strictly Harry/Katie (though I almost made it Harry/Fem!Blaise, at one point). Susan may show up here and there, but did you honestly expect a 'raised (partially!) by Sirius' Harry to be chaste?

I hope I didn't completely butcher Ron and Hermione's characters. And yes, the Italian Quidditch teams are directly from Italian football/soccer, but there is no mention of them in 'Quidditch Throughout the Ages' so I improvised...

Also, I changed the rating to **M**. I'm not going to suddenly start writing lemons, but I'm paranoid, okay? There won't be anything worse than what you read this chapter, though.

Next chapter will feature Dumbledore, Katie, maybe Blaise, and Pasqualino/Sirius (finally!), and the GoF. Who will be chosen from each of the schools? And who is the mysterious godmother that I mentioned in chapter 2 that nobody gives a shit about?

Review, and maybe you'll find out... But probably not.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **The very word contains the root words 'dis' and 'claim', which implies that I don't own anything. But it also has the word 'er', so I don't think I own Harry Potter, but I'm not quite sure. In an alternate universe, I very well might.

Chapter 4

* * *

Damon sat down next to Adriano and Aysha in his full Centurion garb. That was one benefit of being in the eleventh Cohort: they were in the twelfth, and therefore sat next to him on formal occasions. The old man, who had introduced himself as Albus Dumbledore, announced that after the Feast was over, the Goblet would choose the Champions.

"How did it go?" his best friend asked. There had been a shroud of mystery covering the boy since he had joined the Legion at the beginning of second year, but Damon had quickly derived the fact that he was Harry Potter. Back then, he hadn't been able to keep the Illusions over his scar by himself, and while Voldemort was not quite as infamous in Italy and Northern Africa as he was in Britain, his story was still well known.

It bothered him somewhat that his best friend wouldn't tell him the truth about his roots, but he assumed that it was because he worried about his godfather's identity being released. It didn't hurt that as far as he knew, Rino hadn't told Aysha, either.

"Pretty well," he answered, an easy smile on his lips. It was one of his best features, in his own humble opinion, after his rugged jaw line. "I managed to convince Susan that it wasn't you, though it took some persuading."

"Oh?" Rino replied, a small smile gracing his features.

"I blamed Matteo," Damon confessed. He never had been able to lie to Rino. "It helped that he was already claiming that it was of his own creation." He pointed to the curly haired trouble maker who, now that Adriano thought about it, had walked into the Hall sporting a slight limp and shooting nervous glances at the Hufflepuff table and anything red.

Once again, Ron came over to sit at their table. His movements reminded Adriano of his plan to capture Pettigrew, though the rat bastard was still known as Scabbers. It should be fairly simple, he acknowledged with an internal grin. All he had to do was get into the Dormitories for the Gryffindor fifth year girls, where he would snatch the Animagus from a sleeping Ginny Weasley's bed.

In other words, it was an excuse to sleep around with a Gryffindor, which, judging by the ease with which he had shagged Susan, would be a simple venture. It was almost unsatisfying, how little of a chase he had been given from the girl.

However, Ron was pulled over by a stern looking Professor who Adriano was easily able to identify as Minerva McGonagall. She had barely changed since he had left Hogwarts in regards to her appearance, though there were dark circles under her eyes.

Upon further musing, he realized that several of the Professors and older Gryffindor students carried the same palpable burden. Could it be that his absence had had so profound an effect?

Regardless, Ron turned away a moment later with rapidly reddening ears. He then walked in the opposite direction, back towards the red and golden table, which he had already passed by. He concluded that the youngest male Weasley had been chided for going to sit at a table other than Gryffindor for the Feast.

And so, the meal passed rather normally for Adriano and the rest of the Legion. They talked amongst each other in quiet, the Italian rolling off of their tongues. He particularly enjoyed the bouillabaisse, which he knew to be his pseudo-sister's favourite dish, as the ravioli sauce was overly sweet.

Finally, it came time for the choosing of the champions. Barty Crouch gave a brief spiel on the Tournament's history and the prizes for victory, while also stressing international cooperation. It was clear to Adriano that he was still bitter about the lack of international aid during the war with Lord Voldemort.

The Hall full of angst-ridden teenagers was abruptly silent as Madame Maxine smoothed her dress, Consul Lupa stared evenly at her Legion, and Dumbledore flexed his hands in anticipation. Without any preamble or dramatics, the Goblet burst to life, an ethereal blue flame rising out of it.

The aged Hogwarts Headmaster reached out with one hand and caught the parchment with what looked like practiced skill. Maybe he spent his free time trying to catch Summoned parchments. It wouldn't surprise Adriano; all of the Headmasters and Headmistresses were trying far too hard to impress the other schools.

Maybe he simply summoned the parchment to his hand Silently, and was hiding his wand somewhere. He was struck out of his whimsical and increasingly off topic musings when the Defeater of Gellert Grindelwald cleared his throat, and spoke in a calm, booming voice. "The Beauxbatons Champion ... is Andreia Ana Fernanda Cortez."

The Beauxbatons section erupted in cheers, though Adriano noticed a few girls cried into their hands. The young woman that stood was relatively tall, taller than Damon and Aysha, and around the same height as Adriano.

She was tanned, though not to a gross extreme. Like her name had implied, she seemed to be Portuguese, and her dark hair was tied into a neat ponytail. As she walked towards the podium, she sashayed her hips in such a way that had most of the male's leering.

The Italian Centurion felt a certain sense of attraction towards her, but cleared his head as he appraised her as a rival should he be chosen. She looked like the brainy type, and he decided that she could easily pull off the sexy librarian look with her long legs and glasses.

He would have to suspend any conclusions until he could get a better indication of how Magically powerful she was. She could be the most intelligent Witch in Europe for all he cared, but none of it mattered if she didn't have the power to back it up.

He doubted that she would have been chosen by the Goblet if she wouldn't be able to perform decently in the Tournament, though.

The Portuguese Witch was ushered through into another room after shaking hands with Lupa, Dumbledore, Maxine, Barty Crouch, and Ludo Bagman.

Adriano leaned forward in his seat as the Goblet began to splutter as a charred paper flew into the air. Out of the corners of his eyes, he saw Damon biting his fingernails, Aysha twiddling her thumbs, and Gianluca was smoothing back his hair idly.

Dumbledore caught the papyrus sheet once again, and Adriano somehow knew immediately from the twinkle in his eye. His voice still Magically amplified, the host Headmaster announced grandly, "The Champion for Befana's Institute is ... Adriano Nero."

There was silence for a moment, but just for a moment, before they began to clap. The French students clapped quietly, respectfully, as did most of the Hogwarts students. The rest clapped somewhat more enthusiastically.

But the Legion was a completely different story. Disappointment was clear in all of the Legionnaires' eyes, but they still smiled and clapped loudly for their peer. The Second and Third Cohorts scowled into their plates in silent disgruntlement but otherwise kept the peace. He rose to his feet gracefully and exchanged high-fives with Damon, Aysha, and his other friends in the Cohort, and an exaggerated, intricate handshake with Gianluca.

He walked smoothly, making sure not to make a fool out of himself or look too arrogant either. He gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod to Blaise and winked at the good looking girls next to him. He approached the podium as the applause began to die down and shook hands with the three male judges and kissed the back of the female judges' hands.

"Good luck," his Consul said in a hushed tone, clasping his hands in her wrinkled ones.

He nodded to her in deference, drawing in a shaky breath and exhaling.

He then walked past the five judges and walked through the slightly ajar door to the chambers. A chandelier rocked back and forth, illuminating the room. Andreia sat on a plush cushion by a fire, her legs crossed. The fact that she was wearing a skirt only solidified Adriano's hypothesis that she would make an ideal sexy teacher.

He introduced himself to her and they shook hands. She seemed more hospitable than most of her French peers, though that was mainly him stereotyping. He then sat down on the ornate chair next to hers, after Transfiguring it to better suit his tastes.

His opponent looked like she was in seventh year, though she could have passed as a sixth year also. There was a lull in the surrounding sound for a few moments, as if Hogwarts itself was holding its breath.

Then there were cheers, louder than either of theirs but not the groundbreaking applause that they had expected. He had time to wonder if it was because the room was more soundproof or if it was just a Slytherin who was chosen.

He went through the list of Slytherins off the top of his head. There was Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis, Lilith Moon, Pansy Parkinson, and Millicent Bulstrode his age, as well as Malfoy, Theodore Nott, Gregory Goyle, Vincent Crabbe, and...

The door swung inward, ushering the final Champion in with it. He almost let a smirk slip through as Blaise Zabini walked through the entryway. He and Andreia had a few moments to introduce themselves to one another, as the pair of Italian boys had to continue the pretence that they had never met each other.

The five judges proceeded to walk in, with Madame Maxine nearly hitting the chandelier with her head. Adriano let out a small sigh; all of their presences meant that the Feast was likely over. It was a shame; there had been a couple of Ravenclaws his age giving him looks. Now he would have to wait a few days, maybe even weeks for the whole Champion thing to boil over a bit before they would forget about school loyalty.

Admittedly, there might not be much of that, judging by the response to Blaise's selection.

Besides, it was probably better not to engage in sexual acts on Samhain.

"Yes, well, congratulations to all of you on your selection," Crouch said, adjusting his tie. He licked his lips before speaking once again, "There will be four challenges as part of the Tournament, at the end of every other month: December, February, April, and June. Each challenge will deal with a different element: fire, water, earth, and air, not necessarily in that order. You are not to accept or ask for outside help, as all four tasks are to test your daring, mental fortitude, and ingenuity.

"The first task is to be held on December the twenty-ninth. Good luck and I will see you then." Crouch licked his lips once again before walking out, Ludo Bagman's pleas to wait unheeded.

The three Champions walked the halls together for nearly an hour before they went off to bed. Andreia appeared to be a very kind, personable woman, though he wouldn't know for certain until all was said and done. For all he knew, she could be a manipulative bitch just waiting for a chance to turn against them.

He wrote off a quick letter and sent it to Italy via Athena, Damon's owl. He had been unable to use Hedwig; it was highly unlikely that anyone would recognize him by a snowy owl, but there was no point in taking chances needlessly.

Then he went to bed, still mulling over the events of the day and bemoaning the emptiness of his bed.

* * *

Sirius Orion Black, or as he was now known as, Pasqualino Nero, woke up slowly. It took him a moment to register that he was no longer in the damp cells of Azkaban, and that he was in his cozy bungalow in Firenze, or as the English called it, Florence.

Everyone seemed to think that he had chosen the name Pasqualino because he found it funny. He did, but that wasn't the only reason. He also chose it because it contained the root word Pasque, or Easter. And much like the Christians believed that their Christ had resurrected, so had he in a way.

His choosing of the name Pasqualino was symbolic to him to show that he was starting again, that he had been given a second chance at life.

This second chance had started by basically adopting Harry, or Adriano, as he called himself. However, he had refrained from blood adopting his godson, for a multitude of reasons. Chief among them were his reluctance to try to replace James, and Adriano's own reluctance. He had already changed his name, and his personality had been rapidly changing as well. His looks had been the one reminder of his parents that he had wanted to keep, and he refused to use Glamours, either.

He was proud of the kid, even if it was for something as simple as him being proud of his parents.

The other thing that Pasqualino had done was begin a solid life. He had found a job with the Aurors, as he already had the credentials from England. They had given him an impromptu trial and cleared him in Italy, but they would have to wait until the next meeting of the European Wizarding Council to have him cleared throughout the continent. Unfortunately, these meetings only occurred once every four years, and he had not been cleared in time for the 1993 session.

He had also found a woman, and had married her a year and a half ago. She brought two daughters with her, much like he brought his son ... sort of. She had recently been through a messy divorce with the Head Auror in France, who had finally lost control due to her Allure.

It always had been a dream for Pasquale to shag a Veela, but marriage had always been out of the question.

Apolline had actually waited for three years after Jean-Claude Delacour lost his inhibitions before consulting with her Clan. She had been content with his absolute desire for her, the depths of almost servitude that he displayed for her... But that all ended when her eldest daughter, Fleur, reached her Veela inheritance.

On the day of her seventeenth birthday, over two and a half years ago, her Allure had strengthened and solidified, and suddenly, she had found herself pinned to the ground by her own father.

Luckily, her mother had stepped in in time and rescued her. In the process, she had castrated Jean-Claude, and shortly after, she was a single woman and had fled to Italy with Fleur and Gabrielle.

Now, Fleur was in the Healer's Academy in Switzerland, Gabrielle was in her third year of Beauxbatons, and Adriano was in Scotland for the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Thus, the young couple had been spending a lot of their free time together.

One of the strange, yet beautiful, things about Magic was that it inherently worked to keep Magical Beings young and healthy. This was why many youth didn't bother to work out; only the particularly weak did not have enough Magic to keep themselves healthy.

One side effect of this, if it could be called that, was that it delayed the ageing process. After reaching one's Magical inheritance at the age of seventeen, they aged at half the speed.

Thus, Pasquale was only in his mid thirties (thirty seven as of a month ago, to be exact) but appeared to be twenty seven. And Apolline, who had a nineteen year old daughter and was forty one, only appeared twenty nine. All of this combined to make him a very happy Wizard.

And so, when Pasquale Nero woke up the morning after Samhain, 1996, he was greeted with the sight of his beautiful wife curled into his side. Because Samhain was Magically recognized as being the end of the harvest season, it was strongly looked down upon for Wizards and Witches to copulate.

However, Samhain had been the day before...

He kissed her shoulder rather innocently, right on the spot where she carried a blue tattoo. He had the same, and was rather smug about the fact that she had bonded with him but not that bastard Jean-Claude. She shifted in her sleep, causing her already skimpy nightgown to slump down, exposing more of her cleavage.

"Lina," he mumbled. "Wake up, love." That was a bit of an inside joke between the two lovers; both of their names ended similarly, so they called each other 'Lino' and 'Lina.' Suddenly, Lina was awake, her startlingly blue eyes peering into his grey ones.

And then she was on top of him, and they were both moaning and caressing each other's bodies. And then his boxers went flying into a corner, and her nightgown was flung towards the slightly ajar window. And then they heard a loud, indignant hooting noise.

They generally left the windows open because they were Warded to prevent entrance or any peepers from being able to see them, while also allowing in the gentle breeze. Unfortunately, they weren't Warded from owls.

He recognized the owl as being Damon's, which meant that the letter was from Adriano. Which meant that he was supposed to stop whatever he was doing and find out what was happening with his pseudo-son. But this was real life, and in real life, when one has a ridiculously beautiful, naked woman filled with lust, well...

An hour or two later, he finally got to the letter. They had never removed the gown from the owl's head, so it had eventually fallen asleep, assuming that it was dark.

Which was strange, since owls were nocturnal.

He cut open the envelope using a letter opener on his desk, and spilled out the contents onto the bed. Lina had covered herself with the blanket once again to preserve her modesty, in case the owl was a perverted owl.

A sheet of papyrus fell out, so he read the missive aloud for his wife to hear:

_Dear Mama and Papa,_

_I suppose I should start with the big news: I was chosen to be the Legion's Champion today, as were Blaise and a Portuguese girl named Andreia Ana Fernanda Cortez. The first task is at the end of December._

_The other main article of news regards the Marauders. Moony is the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor here at Hogwarts, and Wormtail is still incognito as Ron's sister's rat. Also, she (Ginny Weasley) holds the Map, so when I take the rat, I will bring that back as well._

_Hogwarts has been very welcoming. I've been accused of being someone else seven times, used the Clothes prank on a girl my age, and befriended Ron again. Him and Hermione don't seem to have changed much, but I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not._

_How is Gabby doing so far? I still think that she should have been transferred out of Beauxbatons, but alas...  
_

_I plan on sending Fleur a message soon to ask how she is doing, and if she remembers Miss Cortez. I feel like I have heard of her before..._

_I hope that both of you had an enjoyable, abstinent Samhain, and will see you at the Final Task in June._

_Love,  
Adriano_

_P.S: Susan Bones. The pun is in her name. You'd be so proud of me, Pops._

Pasquale was in several minds after reading the letter.

He was nervous; nervous that Adriano would get caught and be taken away from him and nervous that Adriano would get injured during the Tournament.

He was also proud, as he remembered Susan Bones' mother, Marietta, as a very good looking girl.

He was giddily anxious about the rat, but he was confident in his son's ability to catch him and reveal him for who he truly was.

He penned off a quick letter in response, conveying all of those feelings as well as others. Then he attached the letter to the owl's foreleg and sent it on it's way, ignoring the frustrated hoots for not feeding it.

He gave a weary sigh as his Tempus Charm revealed the time and started to change into his Auror robes. "I should really be getting to work soon, amore," he began, but cut himself off when he turned again.

Apolline had forgone her last shreds of modesty once again, apparently deciding that nudity was perfectly fine now that the owl was gone. "Can't you stay for a bit longer, amour?" she purred. Pasquale knew that he was done for the moment she started accentuating her French accent, which she knew affected him.

She slunk around him so that she was pressed against his back with slow, sensuous movements. "Just a bit longer?" she whispered, nibbling on his earlobe.

Pasquale ended up Flooing the Auror Office to call in sick.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore chewed thoughtfully on a slice of toast covered in a generous layer of butter. It was the morning after the Goblet of Fire had chosen the three Champions names. Andreia Ana Fernanda Cortez represented their French neighbours, and Blaise Zabini had been picked for Hogwarts. Perhaps the greatest surprise had been Harry Potter - for he refused to call him by his alias - who had been drawn as Befana's Champion.

Harry had used a clever disguise in Albus' opinion. There was a very heavy rune scheme over his forehead to hide the scar, but a Notice-Me-Not Ward over that kept most people's attention away from the forehead, and thus missed the concentration of Magic.

But Albus Dumbledore was not most people, and through sheer force of will had managed to catch a glimpse of the lightning bolt scar. Yes, he most definitely was Harry Potter, but the use of the name Nero worried him. Had Sirius Black managed to capture the poor boy and changed his views?

That train of thought sparked another as he concluded that Sirius was hiding somewhere in Italy.

Just then, the Legion began filtering in. Where before they were led by the two Praetors, the forefront of the pack was now made up of three figures: Gianluca Giullare and Alessandra Cacciatore were the Praetors, while Harry had evidently seen his social status boost after his selection.

He observed the young man carefully. He wondered if he should feel offended that Harry hadn't even bothered to alter his looks, though they had changed enough since he had come to Hogwarts that he wasn't immediately recognizable.

Harry's face had filled out a bit over the years, giving him a more regal look. His hair was no longer the tousled mess that it used to be, though his eyes were still the same shape and colour, the emerald pupils appearing to gaze into one's soul.

Other than the eyes, Harry looked almost exactly like James Potter could have. Emphasis on 'could have,' though. If anything, he looked like a perfect cross between Blacks and Potters; his grandparents Dorea and Charlus. The hair was almost exactly like Sirius' was at that age, and the jaw was all Charlus Potter.

Damon whispered to Adriano across the table, "The old man is watching you."

Adriano looked up and sure enough, Dumbledore's head was suddenly tilting away from the Hufflepuff table. He set down the fork that he had just picked up and rose from his seat.

"Where ya going, Rino?" Gianluca asked around a mouthful of toast. Really, the breakfast options at Hogwarts were as limited as the drinking options: toast or eggs; pumpkin juice or tea.

"I'm going to sit with the Ravenclaws today," he said, glancing towards Andreia, who was the only Beauxbatons student there. "You know ... international cooperation and mingling and stuff."

"I'm sure you will mingle," Damon quipped, causing Aysha to slap his shoulder playfully. "I, on the other hand," he continued, straightening his uniform, "Have to mingle as well, and cooperate internationally." The Greek Centurion then stood up and scooted over several seats to sit next to the recently arrived Susan Bones.

Aysha shrugged at him. "I'm just going to stay here with our Cohort. You go have fun and fornicate," she said sarcastically. That was the main drawback of his Libyan friend: she took the loyalty to the Legion too far. In her mind, to walk away from the Legion at breakfast was akin to abandoning them forever.

So, Adriano did the natural thing. He rolled his eyes and walked towards the pretty girl. Andreia looked, for lack of a better word, tired. The euphoria of the previous night had obviously worn off already and the nerves of the Tournament and it's risks had set in, declared by the circles under her eyes.

He decided at that moment to help her get over her nerves, because he knew that she could present a serious challenge to him and Blaise if her head was in the game. Plus, good things happen to guys who help the pretty girls.

"Morning, sunshine," he said in fairly fluent French. Even though they would only need to know English, Consul Lupa had drilled it into their heads that learning both languages would make a better statement, especially since the French and English wouldn't bother to know any language but their own.

She raised an eyebrow as he sat down and began to heap spoons of sugar into his tea. "How are you so energetic this early?" she asked in Italian, surprising him. After his moment of surprise they continued their conversation, him speaking in somewhat fragmented French while she responded in nearly perfect Italian, both correcting each other on their grammar.

"We have a coffee dispenser in our carriage; I've already had three cups. Don't you have one?" he asked challengingly. Why was he making this all into a competition?

"No," she sighed. "Only an endless supply of chocolate via a fountain."

Just then two more figures settle across from the pair. "Adriano, Andreia, this is Daphne Greengrass, my girlfriend," Blaise said in English. "Daphne, these are Adriano Nero and Andreia Ana Fernanda Cortez."

The blonde haired girl gave them nods of superiority. Arrogance must have been a trait of all Slytherins, though he didn't remember hearing the Sorting Hat mention that. Blaise had mentioned Daphne to him before; apparently, they were starting to get serious in their relationship. He had commented that she exuded a cold air of arrogance and general distaste, but Adriano couldn't really see the attraction in someone who acted like a complete bitch, even if she wasn't actually one.

The four had gained many looks from the rest of the schools now, as most had expected the Champions to be dutiful rivals. They didn't expect them to be building friendships, that was for sure.

Too bloody bad for them.

Adriano looked around the Great Hall, giving challenging looks to everyone, daring them to sit with them. It shouldn't have surprised him that it would be Gryffindors that accepted his challenge, but it did anyways.

Ron came over, followed by Lavender and another girl. The other girl seemed familiar to him, and he was sure that they had known each other during his months at Hoggy Hoggy Hogwarts. She had long blonde hair tied in a ponytail, much like Andreia had. She wasn't dressed in the Hogwarts uniform, but jeans and a jumper, dressed casually, denoting her as either Muggleborn or Half-Blooded, as no respectable Pure-Blood would deign to wear Muggle clothing.

She had an athletic body, with long legs and a respectable chest. Her eyes were a deep blue, and her face was angular.

"G'morning, mate, Zabini, Greengrass," Ron said, barely even attempting to hide his loathing for the Slytherins. Adriano rolled his eyes; were they really going to have this House loyalty argument?

"Weasley," Blaise and Daphne both intoned at the same time, though their complete lack of emotion seemed to take Ron by surprise.

"Er, anyways, Rino, is it okay if we sit with you?" He shrugged and looked at Andreia, Blaise, and Daphne, all of whom shrugged noncommittally. Ron took that as agreement, and he, Lavender, the familiar looking blonde, and Hermione, who had just arrived, sat next to them.

"By the way, Rino," Ron said as he began filling his plate with eggs, bacon, and toast, much to Daphne's obvious disgust. He then gestured towards the young woman and introduced her, saying, "This is Katie Bell, Chaser extraordinaire."

Katie blushed prettily as Adriano kissed her knuckles respectfully. "Pleasure to meet you," he murmured. "Ron was practically waxing lyrical about your Quidditch prowess yesterday."

"I'm not that good," she said. "Although Ron mentioned that you Chased as well."

"I do," he admitted as he finished his last slice of toast. In a disgusting display a few seats over, Lavender was spoon feeding Ron. Why did couples have to do that?

"Maybe we could have a little game one day," she suggested.

"I don't know if my manly ego would be able to survive defeat, not that that would ever happen," Adriano replied. He was amazed at how easy conversing with Katie was, though they had so far stayed on a topic that both enjoyed. "Ron and I were talking yesterday with my team's Captain about having a few games between the schools. He's also Praetor, so he could help organize the games."

"That sounds great," Katie agreed. "I'm Head Girl here, so I'll see what I can do on the Hogwarts front."

Adriano smiled warmly at her, and she did the same. Blaise and Daphne, as well as Andreia had left at some point, so they quickly finished their meals, all the while debating the British Quidditch League in contrast to the Italian Calcio, which was what the league was called. Ron and Lavender were making grotesque kissing noises, and Hermione was sitting awkwardly, unable to contribute to the conversation.

He took a better look at her, and realized that her eyes were even darker than they had been the day before. He almost felt guilty because his prank had resulted in her and Terry breaking up, and his rant probably hadn't helped her. The key word was _almost_, because he knew that she needed to remove the stick from her arse and figure out for herself that not everything was black and white; that the authority figures were not always right.

Due to it being a Sunday, and therefore without any classes, they didn't leave the Great Hall until after ten thirty. Adriano and Katie walked to the entrance as they continued talking about Quidditch - they were on to broomsticks now. Adriano stuck with Nimbus but Katie insisted that the Firebolt was superior - but they were cut off by Albus Dumbledore.

"Ms. Bell, Mr. Nero, a good day to the two of you," he said benevolently, smiling cheerily at the international cooperation involved. "Would you mind if I borrowed Mr. Nero for a few moments?"

Katie agreed with some trepidation. She was enjoying the conversation with her forgotten team mate and didn't want to part with the good looking Italian yet, but knew that she didn't have much of a choice.

"Thank you. Mr. Nero, follow me to my office, please."

As Adriano walked, he got the oddest feeling that he was walking towards the gallows, the hangman leading the way.

* * *

**A/N**: I wrote almost all of this chapter over the past 24 hours, save for 500 words, so I might change it a little bit if you guys don't like it, especially since I'm not particularly happy with some parts. On the bright side, I've already started the next chapter... admittedly, it's only the Disclaimer, but still. It will feature Lupin, Dumbledore, Harry Potter, and Ollivander. Make of that what you will. I also don't understand the obsession with _Breaking Bad_, but, oh well.

Review, and I guess I'll see you guys next weekend!


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter. In an alternate universe, I very well might. For all I know, I could be Harry Potter, in which case, J.K. Rowling would own me. Kinky, but I'd prefer to be owned by Lauren Cohan (preferably with long hair). Mila Kunis comes in a close second, for those curious.  
Chapter 5

* * *

Adriano stared steadfastly out the window of Dumbledore's office. The sky was a dreary grey, foreshadowing the coming storm that was the norm for the Scotland highlands.

Consul Lupa sat next to him in a chair that was fairly ornate. While usually she would choose a simpler format for a casual seat, it was evident to him that she wanted to establish them as being Plebeians in comparison to her.

She had intercepted him and Dumbledore in a similar way to how Dumbledore had intercepted him and Katie. They had only just left the Great Hall when he realized that he probably should have requested the company of his Consul, and she had suddenly appeared. Dumbledore hadn't seemed fazed and led them to his office uninterrupted.

He had muttered the password quietly enough that Adriano couldn't hear exactly what he had said - after all, there was no way that Britain's Leader of the Light used 'lemon drops' as a password. Admittedly, no one would guess it, but it still seemed highly unlikely.

And besides that, a simple Blasting Curse would easily destroy the stone Gargoyle in front of the door, granting access to any potential invaders above fourth year. All in all, Hogwarts would be woefully under prepared for an internal attack.

Once they had ascended the revolving staircase into the office, Adriano had been greeted by another surprise, though not of the good kind. A certain shaggy-looking male that he recognized as being Remus Lupin from Pasquale's photographs was sitting there, looking rather nervous.

He tried his best to keep the surprise off of his face. For the past four and a half years, his godfather had told him that Remus was a great man, that he couldn't have known that Sirius was innocent, that he hadn't been able to check up on Adriano all those years ago because of the Anti-Werewolf Laws passed by the Ministry.

And yet, here the bastard was, teaching at a school full of children and acting like nothing was the matter.

Dumbledore and the Werewolf - for Adriano refused to call him Lupin, Remus, or Moony, even in his mind - were sitting across from him and the Consul.

Dumbledore broke the silence, saying, "Mr. Potter, this is-"

"I'd prefer that you didn't make baseless accusations like the rest of your school seems hell bent on making," Adriano interrupted.

Dumbledore sighed. This was not going the way he wanted it to; he had hoped to not have to play his full hand. Some may call him a master manipulator, he had even been called a puppet master, but he considered himself as someone who was able to help others and did so, so that the younger generations did not have to feel the pain that he had in his youth.

He had made some mistakes with his decisions, yes, and unfortunately, his mistakes happened to be great failures: Tom Riddle and Harry Potter, to name a couple.

"Mr. Potter, I can see through your Wards. There is no point in continuing to keep your scar hidden. We are all friends here."

Adriano continued to stare past them. A few students in their fourth or fifth years were fooling around on their brooms, and he could only think that if he hadn't entered himself into the competition and drawn attention to himself, he would be out there right now.

Instead of speaking his thoughts, he gave a disbelieving look at the concept of him being friends with Dumbledore or the Werewolf.

Noticing this, the aged wizard continued from where Adriano had interrupted him, "And this is Remus Lupin. He was your father's best friend when he was in Hogwarts."

Adriano clenched his hand into a fist as he held back the urge to correct the old man for the blatant lie. The Werewolf in front of him was _not_ James Potter's best friend; that was Sirius Black. In his opinion, the Werewolf wasn't even the Marauder who was a close friend of James Potter, just someone with the same name.

Consul Lupa was still sitting there passively. She was observing all of the goings-on with a shrewd expression, and he knew that a single motion to her would end the meeting right there.

But he also knew that that would just delay the inevitable.

Albus continued, "Now Mr. Potter, we need to know the whereabouts of Sirius Black."

"Who?" Adriano asked. Even though he knew that the innocent game wouldn't work, he also acknowledged that it would likely irritate the two men across from him.

Dumbledore sighed once again. "Mr. Potter, you changed your last name to the direct translation of Black. Now, you can tell us where Sirius Black is, or I can have you put on trial for interfering with justice, where you would be interrogated using Veritaserum and possibly sent to Azkaban."

He yawned lazily. "Good luck with that. I'm outside of British legislation, Mr. Dumbledore. You lock me up, and the whole E.W.C. is after you for locking up a minor on flimsy evidence."

Albus almost made a thinly veiled threat that Severus would drop some Veritaserum in Harry's cup by accident, but decided against it. The young man would know that he was bluffing. "Then I'll reveal to the entire school that you're Harry Potter."

Adriano laughed quietly. "Go ahead," he bluffed. "Everyone here already knows, I just haven't admitted it to them. Tell them, and you lose any kind of leverage you had."

Dumbledore exhaled, fishing around in his mind for a plausible threat that would get Harry to cough up the truth. "In that case, I'll get a warrant from the E.W.C. to get your living arrangements information from Befana's."

Adriano bit his lip, trying to exude confidence, but he knew that the old man had him there. He leaned forward and said, "The thing is, my godfather is innocent." Albus rolled his eyes and the Werewolf made his hand into a fist, clearly angry about his former best friend's perceived lies. "Now, I know that you don't believe me - switch our positions and I doubt I'd believe me either - but I can get you proof."

The Werewolf finally spoke up. "Anything that he told you was a lie, Harry. He changed everything so that you'd think he was the good guy in all of this."

"He didn't lie about anything!" Adriano burst out, furious at the insinuations about his godfather, almost father. "He told me the truth. Why else would he tell me about your furry little problem?" Remus whitened at that; as far as he knew, nobody at the school was aware of his alter-ego every month. If that became public knowledge, he would lose his job, simple as that.

"Still think he lied to me, _'Moony_?'" he asked, standing up now. "He also told me that he had been chosen as my parents' Secret Keeper, but that he was worried that he would break if Voldemort tortured him, so he changed it to Peter!"

"Peter would never have betrayed James and Lily!" Remus shouted back. Both men were standing, glaring at each other, and neither was willing to give an inch. "He gave you some truths, but mainly half-truths so that you'd believe him, but Lily would never have let James choose Peter!"

"I'll give you proof, then," Harry said, more to the Werewolf than to Dumbledore. "I'll give you hardcore, undeniable evidence that the Rat is still alive."

"What evidence?" Dumbledore asked quietly. "Perhaps if you told us what it was, we could help you find it."

Adriano snorted. "You wouldn't believe me."

"Try us," the Werewolf challenged. He realized that it was probably because the Full Moon was coming up, but it did not excuse his behaviour or accusations.

He sighed, knowing that they would dismiss his answer. At least he had the Consul in his corner, even though she hadn't said a word so far. "Fine. The Rat is in disguise as Ginny Weasley's pet rat Scabbers."

"Bullshit!" the Werewolf erupted violently, accidentally knocking a trinket off of Dumbledore's desk, breaking it in the process, with his wild motions. "The amount of utter bullshit that Sirius has filled your head with-"

"I'm starting to wonder, Werewolf, if you just don't believe that Sirius is innocent, or if you don't want to," Adriano accused. The Werewolf looked like he was going to respond, likely via an expletive, but he raised a hand to stop him. "How about this: I'll give you rock hard proof by midnight on Yuletide, and if I haven't, you're free to go to the E.W.C. to get a warrant." _Not that it would do anything,_ he thought to himself with a small smirk.

"And if you think that you can go behind my back on this little deal ... well, I'm sure that the press would have a field day with your condition," he glared at the Werewolf once again, "And your little fling with Gellert." At Dumbledore's dumbstruck expression, he added, "Great-Aunt Cassiopeia always was a fan of blackmailing."

He walked out of the office after that. The meeting hadn't gone as he had hoped, but at least he had managed to get them to agree to give his evidence a chance.

As the door closed behind one of her best students, Consul Lupa sent a withering glare at the two men before standing. "Mr. Dumbledore, I highly recommend you don't try talking to one of my students without my permission again. I don't think it would end well for anyone involved."

That said, the frightening old woman exited the Leader of the Light's office, leaving two bashful, confused, and somewhat terrified men behind her.

* * *

Adriano seethed quietly as he walked towards the carriage, drawing odd looks from the students of all schools. He took every other step up the stairs to it, taking only two steps altogether.

He ignored the congratulating from his peers as he moved directly to his barrack, where he shuffled around with his bag until he drew out a plain mirror, nearly slicing his thumb with the jagged edge.

"Pasquale!" he called sharply. He made a quick prayer that he wouldn't be getting up close and personal with Apolline and cast a quick Silencing Ward to shield his conversation. He was lucky, as Pasquale was at least wearing a bathrobe, though that didn't necessarily bode well for him.

He quickly outlined the conversation with the Werewolf and Dumbledore. His father looked disappointed and hurt by how his friend was acting, but was glad to hear that Adriano had a decent plan to free him. And besides, everything with the British Ministry was more so that he didn't have to hide than anything else.

Adriano had, after all, only gone to Hogwarts so that he would be identified, and then catch the Rat. Thus, he would avenge his birth parents while freeing him at the same time.

If he really wanted, he could simply stay in Italy. The back-up plan for if Adriano's plan failed was his ensured freedom in Italy, so the British Wizengamot could not legally pull him out of the country since he was not a convict there.

Really, it was just one big elaborate plan so that the family of five - Pasquale, Apolline, Adriano, Fleur, and Gabrielle - could have complete freedom anywhere in the world.

That was why he took his son's improvised plan in stride and changed the topic to something that concerned him more. "Have you figured out what the First Task yet?"

Adriano scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "I've only had a day, Pops. But don't worry; me, Damon, and Aysha will read up on water, earth, and air tomorrow, and then I'll train once I have it narrowed down a bit."

His godfather nodded his head in the mirror. "What about Fire?"

"The Task is in December, Pops. I don't think there will be a whole lot of fire-related challenges available."

"That makes sense, but be prepared anyways," Pasquale chided lightly. Adriano could bear running water in the background and, sure enough, his godfather and adoptive father quickly ended the conversation. Before he ended the 'call,' he added, "By the way, Cortez is part of the Portuguese nobility. Their Minister was a Cortez for about a decade and a half between 1975 and 1990, and they still have a lot of political sway."

"Ah," Adriano muttered. "That's why the name seemed so familiar."

"By the way," Pasquale continued, his voice serious in a way that didn't quite match his usual personality. "Have you had any more of those dreams?"

During the past summer, he had begun to have these strange dreams in which a foetus-like Voldemort killed an old man before feeding him to his snake. Since then, he had had the same dream several times with varying levels of clarity. On one such morning after, he had described the unnamed servant to Fleur, who was very artistic, and she had drawn a sketch that Pasquale had recognized as being Barty Crouch Jr.

"Once or twice," he replied honestly. "The last one, Voldemort mentioned a plan at Hogwarts and an inside man - I'm assuming that it's the Rat."

He could hear a woman's voice in the background now, belonging to his adoptive mother. "Well, I've got to go, kiddo, but take care, alright?" Adriano nodded, and just before he cancelled the spell, he heard, "And sleep with a Gryffindor!"

He chuckled to himself and wrapped the mirror back in its package before placing it back in his bag. He still had a while until dinner, so he sat down on his cot and pulled out his broomstick, the same Nimbus 2000 from all those years ago. It was still in nearly perfect condition, but if he were still a Seeker, he definitely would have upgraded to the Firebolt.

He had only become a Chaser because when he entered his second year in the Legion and was drafted - for lack of a better word - into his Cohort, there was already a Seeker for their team. He was designated as the substitute Seeker, but during the second game of the year, one of the team's Chasers went down to a bludger to the head, and another flew into the right goalpost and sprained the wrist of their throwing arm badly.

Ever since then, he had been the starting Chaser, and had immediately found himself a niche in the position. While the Seeker often got the glory, Adriano found that he preferred constantly being involved in the game. The realization' that his birth father, James Potter, had also been a Chaser and back-up Seeker had only reinforced his decision to Chase.

And now, he was consistently rated in the Top Five Chasers in the Legion, no small achievement in a school that had thirty six starters. Between him and Gianluca, the Twelfth Cohort had been the dominant Quidditch team for the past three years. Second year had been a major disappointment, but after a massive change in captaining and a re-imagined starting Chaser trio, they went nearly undefeated, only losing once to the Second and Third Cohorts each.

And thus, a rivalry began between the Second, Third, and Twelfth Cohorts, one that would remain for decades after Adriano graduated.

* * *

The next few days were fairly uneventful. Adriano managed to narrow down the possibly challenges in the First Task somewhat, but they wouldn't be sure until they could sneak a glimpse of them.

The overall reaction to Blaise being the Hogwarts Champion was positive, as he was known by his peers to be quiet but intelligent, and cunning enough to always have a plan. The Gryffindors, naturally, were not too friendly towards him or the Goblet's choosing, as several Lions had gone to Dumbledore demanding it be relit (Adriano only knew of this because Dumbledore had made an announcement at dinner asking them to stop).

That may not have been the best thing to do, as shortly after, several attacks had taken place against Blaise. Each had resulted in a loss of points for Gryffindor and Lions making trips to the Hospital Wing, but it had damaged Adriano's already delicate friendship with Ron when he learned that he had led one of them.

On the Dumbledore front, Adriano still hadn't slept with any Gryffindors yet. He had been rather absorbed with another goal, one that he finally achieved on the following Thursday evening.

On Friday morning, therefore, he woke up in the Ravenclaw Tower, even more comfortable than usual. The reason for this was soon made apparent. He lay on his back, and Su Li was tucked into his side, her small hands caressing his pectoral muscles, decently toned from Chasing.

Su was a pretty sixth year of Asian descent; he wasn't sure, but he thought she was the daughter of a Chinese ambassador, or something. She had a slight accent, suggesting that she had moved to England when she was younger, although he remembered her from his own days at Hogwarts.

She was the typical Ravenclaw in that she was highly intelligent, but she also possessed a dry wit and a sharp tongue that he had admired. On a more physical scale, she had hazel coloured eyes, and long, muscular legs that complimented a decent rear.

However, sleeping with a pretty Asian girl, regardless of her connections or flexibility, was not why he had devoted so much time and effort to this project. It was because Su was snuggled into his left side, but Padma Patil was on his right.

Padma, like Su, was the daughter of a foreign dignitary, though her mother was the Head of Foreign Liaisons in India. She had moved her twin daughters Padma and Parvati to England at a young age as a single mother while continuing her job by negotiating between India and Britain. Parvati, a Gryffindor who enjoyed gossip, wasn't as appealing to him as Padma was despite their identical appearances; perhaps because he looked for intelligence in a girl.

Padma was best friends with Su because they shared qualities of shyness and intelligence. Unlike her long-legged friend, however, she had a fairly plain appearance. Her legs, while long, were not nearly as toned as Su's, who had been taking a variety of martial arts since she was a young girl.

Her arse, also, was rather unremarkable, though cute, and her bust was decently sized, but couldn't compete with the upper range of her age group, such as Susan. Her nose was a bit too round, and her lips didn't quite have that quality of fullness to them.

All of these imperfections, though, were what made Padma Patil real to him. Besides, there was something about exotic, ethnic women that he found undeniably sexy.

Eventually, the three young adults had to wake up. Adriano kissed both girls' foreheads gentlemanly; after all, he was still a romantic at heart. There would always be a part of him that yearned to have a family, one that the Dursleys had prevented him from having through emotional and occasionally physical abuse.

The Sun was well above the horizon, but he continued to let them sleep. His only class that day would be Transfiguration, as he would be able to skip Herbology thanks to the Weighing of the Wands Ceremony, and the class wouldn't be until after lunch anyways.

As Su and Padma continued to snuggle into his sides, the former resting her head on his chest while the latter's hand had dipped below the bedsheets and was hovering around his waist, he finally decided that he had enough. Without any warning whatsoever, he jumped out of the bed and pushed the drowsy girls together, startling them.

Then he put one arm around each and began tickling their sides mercilessly, causing both girls to giggle uncontrollably. However, Su was not an easy target, and somehow, the two girls managed to outmanoeuvre him so that both straddled his chest and faced each other, Su's adorable bum wagging teasingly in front of his face.

"You know, Pad," Su said, slightly out of breath. "I think Adriano has ruined men for me."

"Me too," Padma agreed. "Before him, no guy had ever lasted more than six minutes, and then last night..." she trailed off dreamily.

Adriano tried to look around Su to see their expressions, but she only scooted back further, sitting on his collarbone now so that he could barely move his neck. On the bright side, the view was fantastic.

Su leaned forward slightly and, although he could see it, he knew that she and Padma were snogging. Finally having mercy on him, Su and Padma moved off of him, their lips still attached.

It was easily the most erotic thing he had ever seen.

Suffice to say, Adriano was half an hour late to Transfiguration.

As it turned out, Padma and Su were not actually dating, nor had they actually given up on males, although they still felt that they were pigs in general. Ron's eating habits probably didn't help their beliefs. The two girls did, however, 'scratch each other's itches' as they put it, but they weren't in a definite relationship, especially since Su would probably entered into a Marriage Contract when she came of age.

McGonagall barely yelled at him, although it was probably because Dumbledore told her who he was, and she wanted to atone for any past sins. After class, a riveting lesson on Conjuring walls to deflect curses (actually, they were Transfiguring air molecules into denser ones, such as marble or brick) he approached the feline Animagus.

"Good afternoon, Professor," he said. Indeed, he had skipped lunch due to his extracurricular activities, as his stomach frequently reminded him.

"Ah, Mr. Pot-er, Nero," she corrected herself hurriedly.

"Its fine, Professor," he assured her. "I figured Dumbledore might tell you about me." She relaxed in her seat, and Adriano realized that he was well within his rights now to expose Dumbledore's relationship with Grindelwald. Maybe not yet, he decided. It was great blackmail material, and it would be a shame to waste it.

"Well, Mr. Potter, how can I help you?" she asked, the only sign of her nervousness a slight tapping of her foot.

"I just wanted to say," he said, before pausing to take a deep breath. "That I don't blame you ... for anything, from when I was eleven." She went to interrupt, but he raised a hand to stop her. "I have to go to the Weighing of the Wands Ceremony, Professor. Have a good day."

He turned around and without taking another look at the now crying teacher, he walked out the door and in the general direction of the room that Lupa had told him about.

It was a fairly small classroom that he entered. He was the second Champion to arrive, as Blaise had to be fetched from his Potions class first, so he sat in one of the seats.

Andreia, as it turned out, had already been accosted by the Daily Prophet representative. Apparently, they wanted to work an angle that he and Blaise were Mafioso buddies, and that the two Italians would perform a hit on the former Portuguese Minister's daughter because his father, a third cousin of the Blacks, was the new boss of the mob and wanted to make an impression.

Adriano had laughed pretty soundly at that theory, but resolved to himself that he would deal with the media soon. He didn't need to deal with any distractions with the Tournament going on.

Before long, Blaise arrived, commencing the Weighing of the Wands Ceremony, conducted by Ollivander.

Blaise's wand, a hawthorn creation with a dragon heartstring core, proved to be in good shape, as was Andreia's oak wand with ophiotaurus hair, something that had interested Ollivander to no end. In Greek mythology, the entrails of the ophiotaurus could be used to overthrow the Gods, so a hair from it was very valuable.

Adriano's wand was also fit for use apparently. He had bought it from a Venetian merchant before he joined the Legion, and he was very proud of his core of grim hair within a cypress tree's wood.

Ollivander's proclamation that all was well had begun a long photo shoot. The photographer, a male, was insistent on Andreia being in the front and unbuttoning her blouse more (she wasn't too impressed with him). The journalist, on the other hand, was Rita Skeeter, a notorious writer in that she cared more for the spectacle the article would stir up than the integrity involved in creating it.

She insisted that Blaise and Adriano each stand to Andreia's side and hold their wands out towards her menacingly, while she looked frightened.

That didn't work out either.

Eventually they settled for a normal photograph, but they then had to compensate for Madame Maxine's height.

It was almost dinner when Ludo Bagman declared, "Time for interviews!"

Barty Crouch glared at him and licked his lips before leaving, and was soon followed by Andreia and Blaise, as well as their Headmaster and Headmistress. Within moments, Adriano was left with Lupa and Rita Skeeter.

"Mr. Nero," Rita said, layering her voice with far too much honey. "Do you mind if we speak somewhere more ... private?"

Lupa sent him a concerned look, but he shrugged it off. "I'll be fine," he murmured. Loud enough for Skeeter to hear, he said, "Sure."

The sleazy journalist led him into what turned out to be a broom closet. She set down a Quick Notes Quill before turning towards him, her bosom heaving as though she was trying to seduce him. It wouldn't surprise him; journalists were about as immoral as they came, so he simply stared at her with a bored expression.

She huffed at him and said, "Mr. Potter-"

She barely finished the name before he had his wand whipped out and pointed at her neck. This was as good of a time as any to deal with the media, permanently.

Five minutes later, he walked out of the broom closet with a satisfied smile on his face. He had threatened to reveal that she was an illegal Animagus, some interesting information that Pasquale had told him, effectively neutering the media.

Like his parents and the rest of the Marauders, Rita had been a Hogwarts student and a graduate in 1977. Ironically, she had had an infatuation with the Rat, Peter Pettigrew, so she had learned how to transform into a small beetle, innocuous enough for her to get lots of information on others.

However, the Rat had turned her down and told his best friends, and Pasquale had ventured the guess that she would never have registered with the Ministry.

Adriano had achieved a personal goal in the bedroom and shut down the media in one day. He felt that he had more than enough reason for the smug smile that lasted all dinner. Now, if only he could figure out what the First Task was going to be.

* * *

A/N: It may seem somewhat choppy, because I was really inspired at some parts (for example, the beginning sequence) compared to other sections.

It was interesting to see how many people jumped the gun at the end of last chapter, but I hope that you guys and gals liked this one also.

According to the site I used, cypress is symbolic of understanding sacrifice and death, so I thought it fit Adriano pretty well.

Next chapter will feature Katie Bell and Adriano and Co. learning about the Task.

You guys have really spoiled me so far, so please, continue reviewing!


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer**: Nope. Don't own.  
Chapter 6

* * *

The Dark Lord Voldemort was one of, if not the most powerful Dark Wizard in the past century. And yet, he had been defeated by an infant, and was now suspended in his foetus like form until one of his incompetent servants completed the ritual.

Nagini, his Horcrux and pet snake, slithered near his crib, her tongue flicking in the air. Suddenly, she caught a new scent - rather than the usual odour of Antonín Dolohov, the intruder was easily identified as being Barty Crouch Jr. He would be a tasty snack when the time came, though there wasn't too much meat on his bones.

The man kneeled before her Master. "Barty," Voldemort hissed, surprised by the visit. "Why have you left your station?"

"My Lord, I discovered news of the utmost import, so I came directly to you with it: Harry Potter is alive, and has been entered as the Tri-Wizard Champion for his school."

The Dark Lord shifted underneath his blanket. This form, the form of Bertha Jorkins' unborn child, was weak and despicable, constantly requiring milk and warmth.

He made a mental note to find a way to abolish infants once he gained power; all newborns would immediately become adults. Thus, his new regime would not have to deal with the immaturity of youth and, even worse, hormonal, pubescent adolescents. Another advantage was that he would have a constant supply of mindless servants, which was often his favourite kind.

Out loud, he kept a cold, dangerous voice as he remarked, "And how exactly has the boy kept himself hidden from our eyes all these years?"

Barty swallowed nervously and licked his lips. "It would appear that he and Black escaped to Italy, where he entered Befana's School."

"Yaxley was in charge of watching the continent, yes?"

"Affirmative, my Lord. Yaxley was to observe continental Europe to catch Potter and Black. The Carrows had the Americas and Nott had Asia, while I covered the British Isles under my disguise. He appeared a couple of weeks ago under the guise of Adriano Nero and was made the Champion of his school.

"Last night, the Fool Dumbledore informed me that he had undeniable evidence that he was indeed Potter, not knowing my disguise, and I have since made haste to your side, my Lord."

Lord Voldemort looked upon him approvingly. Crouch had always been one of his more zealous followers, and while he had been imprisoned because of his passion, he and the Lestranges would always be his favourites. Barty was correct when he assumed that if he had come earlier with that news but no confirmation, he likely would have been tortured.

Admittedly, the punishment for Barty's failure would have been nothing in comparison to what he had planned for Malfoy and his ilk. While they had gained solid reputations for themselves and advanced within the Ministry, he would not easily forgive how quickly Lucius had abandoned his Lord. If there was one thing that he hated even more so than infants, it was insubordination, and posthumous abandonment was only a small step from blatant rebellion and mutiny.

"Well done, Barty," he said quietly. A hand came up to stroke Nagini's muscled, scaly body. "There is a Muggle in the basement; you may do with her what you wish." His most loyal of servant's eyes gleamed with a mixture of greed and lust; lust for power as much as for sexual desire.

"Thank you, my Lord."

"Oh, and Barty," he called, stopping the retreating man. "Do make sure that Mr. Potter is our esteemed guest at my resurrection, will you?"

Crouch nodded, eager to please his Master, and walked off to the basement, eager to be pleased.

The Dark Lord chuckled to himself quietly. Indeed, a body fuelled by his prophesied nemesis' blood would be much more powerful than that of any other competitor. Additionally, he could rid himself of the burdensome prophecy, and then continue in his master plan for world domination.

"Nagini," he hissed in the noble language of serpents. "Fetch Yaxley for me." His Horcrux and familiar slithered towards the door, but as she turned her head, he caught a glimpse of her eyes: an unnatural, emerald shade. It was gone in a moment, but it left him with food for thought nonetheless.

He soon forgot about the possibility of Potter being connected to Nagini and therefore him, as he got caught up in torturing Yaxley for his miscue regarding Potter's whereabouts.

* * *

Hundreds of miles away, Adriano Nero woke up suddenly, drenched in sweat. He was alone in his cot, which was probably for the best.

His room, or what passed for a room, consisted of mainly his bed: uncomfortable and all around lousy. There was also a small desk in the corner, which he only had because he was the Legion's Champion. On all four sides of the small room were thin drapes that were a dark blue, giving a small feeling of privacy to the inhabitants.

He shakily grabbed paper and a quill and wrote down what little he remembered before the nightmare faded even further.

Barty Crouch was somewhere within the school. No problem; when he nicked the Rat, he could take the Marauders Map with him. From there, finding Crouch would be easy enough.

Voldemort knew that he was back in Britain; not only that, but he was planning a comeback. That could be troublesome, especially if he succeeded. He would have to inquire with Pasquale if the Nero family Grimoire contained any information on Dark rituals that bound a soul to the mortal realm.

Not only was Voldemort poised to return, but his master plan somehow pertained to Adriano himself. With Crouch embedded somewhere within the walls of Hogwarts, he had to be aware at all times to ensure that the Death Eaters couldn't capture him.

Perhaps even more disturbing was how he had viewed the events. Normally he saw everything from a third person point of view, but this time, as crazy as it sounded in his head, he was watching Voldemort and Crouch from a first person viewpoint.

As the snake.

The bloody snake. It shared some kind of a connection with him and Voldemort.

What the bloody hell was going on? Adriano wrote down those additional notes, as he was fairly certain that he was too tired to make sense of it yet, as it was well into the middle of the night, judging by the darkened sky.

He was also able to jot down a small memo to remind himself to ask Pasquale about who Crouch Junior could be impersonating before Damon barged through the thin curtain that separated all of the barracks.

"Are you okay?" the Greek male asked, worry for his friend etched all over his face. Adriano felt a sudden rush of emotions towards one of his best friends as he realized how spoiled he was by having two of the greatest friends he could imagine, and yet he refused to tell them his most important and yet least hidden secrets.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a bad dream." Damon shot him a doubtful look, and he wondered if he was that awful at fibbing or if his friend just knew him too well. "Hey," he called as his friend made to leave. "Can you get Aysha and then come back here? I need to tell you guys something."

"Mate, if Lupa catches me creeping into a girl's barracks, she'll skin me alive!" he protested.

"Then don't get caught," he said. Damon stuck his tongue out immaturely but left in search of Aysha anyways.

There was no point anymore in pretending to hide his identity from his best of friends. If Dumbledore was comfortable enough to confide in whoever Crouch was posing as, there was nothing to suggest that he wouldn't let it once and for all soon. At the very least he would tell Damon and Aysha, Gianluca and the rest of the Cohort, and Katie and the few other friendships he had restarted in the past weeks.

Perhaps he would tell Ron and Hermione as well, especially since he had been overly harsh on them. He couldn't really blame either of them, Hermione for her assumptions and Ron for attacking Blaise, considering that he probably would have done the same in their situations.

Besides, it wouldn't hurt to have friends in Gryffindor other than Katie, who was not very close with Ginny apart from being on the same Quidditch team. Ron or Hermione could both go into Ginny's dormitory without any suspicion from the girl herself, saving him the time it would take to snag himself a Gryffindor, not that it would take him long anyways.

With at least a few minutes before Damon and Aysha returned, Adriano did what he and almost all Wizards did best: he brooded.

Why was Voldemort so interested in him? Now it was personal because he had, through unknown means, defeated him, but why had the self proclaimed Dark Lord targeted an infant, of all people, as a potential threat? He would have to research Voldemort's past - after all, no one named their child Voldemort. He must have gone to Hogwarts and changed his name afterwards, so there had to be evidence of him somewhere in the castle.

And what did Voldemort and Nagini have to do with his scar, which always prickled in pain after a Dark Lord related nightmare? Could this mysterious connection be the cause of his Parseltongue abilities?

And most importantly, why did everything have to revolve around him and Voldemort?

He was brought out of his musings moments later as the curtain was swept aside once again, this time giving entrance to Damon and Aysha.

His Libyan friend looked thoroughly disgruntled to be woken up so early, but she was also obviously concerned for Adriano. "I swear to Jupiter, if you woke me up for nothing..." She trailed off threateningly, causing him to gulp.

"I, er, I just wanted to make a confession to you two, since you're my best friends." He looked at both of them to see their reactions so far; Aysha was tapping her foot impatiently and Damon was leaning against the desk, boredom obvious in his features.

"You probably already know this, but the truth is, I'm Harry Potter."

There was dead silence for a moment, and he risked a quick glance at the two Centurions across from where he stood. Damon simply stared at him before palming his own forehead. "Thank you, Sherlock," he said sarcastically as he walked towards the flimsy curtain that separated their barracks. "Any reason you decided to tell us this _now_, and not during the past four years?"

Adriano sighed and sat down on his bed. "Why haven't I told you two?" he asked rhetorically. "Because when the British Ministry eventually found out - don't look at me like that; they'd have figured it out sooner or later, it was inevitable - then you two would have been in hot water for all kinds of shit!" As he continued his explanation, his voice grew louder and louder, until by the end, he had to consciously quiet himself to prevent others from hearing them.

"So what changed?" Damon asked hotly. "I don't see the British Ministry coming after you or Lino."

"Not yet," he corrected. "But Dumbledore's already comfortable enough to tell people that can go to Voldemort with that information."

Damon's eyes flickered towards the floor. "Is that what the nightmare was about?"

"That and watching him torture some guy named Yaxley."

"Sounds like fun," the female of the group noted dryly. "I'm going back to bed since it's one in the morning, but this has been fun." She walked out briskly and Adriano sighed in relief; at least she hadn't attacked him.

* * *

"Hey Rino, I think we've been going about this all wrong." Adriano looked up from his book on water related monsters (it only really mentioned grindylows, merpeople, and the like).

He, Damon, and Katie were all sitting in the Hogwarts library. It was the day after his nightmare about Crouch Jr. and Voldemort, and Aysha was working on a Potions assignment while Blaise, well, Blaise was probably thoroughly investigating Daphne.

It was a shame that they had to go to lessons with the Hogwarts students, but it was unavoidable. Lupa had been the only Instructor that came with them, as the rest of the teachers had to stay with the students from first to fifth year. Thus, the O.W.L. qualified candidates from Beauxbatons and the Legion had to study with the English.

"How so?" Katie asked. Over the past weeks, the two had struck up a solid friendship, and they were frequently seen chatting about Chaser strategies or what their respective schools were like.

"Maybe we're taking this translation too literally," Damon explained. "What if 'water' meant something other than water?"

"Yeah, that makes sense," Adriano quipped. He was fairly grumpy after the poor night's sleep the past evening. "So what else could 'water' mean?" He was actually rather surprised that Damon had any kind of theory, as he had thought that he was flipping through a PlayWizard behind the heavy textbook.

"Well, water comes in different forms, doesn't it? And since the task is in the middle of Winter, it could translate as being ice or snow."

"So what are they going to make us do? Shovel the snow?"

"Not quite," Damon said. "The other day, the Consul made a not-so veiled reference to bees; particularly, bumblebees."

"And that has what to do with snow and ice?" This time Katie asked the question, though her tone was still laced with disbelief and confusion.

"Here's where it gets tricky," Damon confessed. He looked about to say something deep and thoughtful, but instead asked, "Do you remember the movie 'Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer?'"

Adriano gaped at him. "Vaguely, but what does that have to do with bumblebees?"

"Do you remember the character Bumbles?"

"Yeah, he was the friendly abominable snowman..." he trailed off. "Do you think I'll be against a Yeti?"

Damon shrugged. "It's a thought, and the best guess we've had so far. Plus, there's no way Lupa just drops a hint like that without it meaning something."

It really was the best lead they had so far, and Damon was just crazy enough to have figured out the Consul's ridiculous clue. Speaking of which, he asked, "How did you figure that out, anyways?"

Damon looked sheepish. Without any preamble, he handed his book over to him - and sure enough, it was a copy of the Winter edition of PlayWizard. The picture on the opened page featured a naked brunette sitting on a reindeer with a wand held to her lips.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Damon at least had the decency to look relatively abashed. "And how can we even be certain that this is what Lupa meant?"

Damon shrugged, but Katie answered. "Like he said, it's the best lead we have so far. You can make a comment to her later about reindeers or something and see how she reacts."

Damon and Adriano both agreed to the tentative plan, so the trio began to look up Yeti, Sasquatch, Bigfoot, and other such legends. After half an hour, Katie spoke up.

"Here's something," she said, looking up from a thin book written by Newt Scamander. Adriano and Damon both looked up at her comment, so she continued, "According to this, Yetis fear fire, which makes sense, since they live primarily in the Himalayas."

Adriano nodded to himself. "That makes more sense than what I found. According to this piece of dragon dung, the key to defeating a Yeti is to run downhill." As the other members of his little study group gave him identical looks of contusion, he elaborated, "Apparently, the Yeti's hair will get in it's eyes, causing it to fall and lose track of you."

Katie and Damon looked lost for words. "Anyways, what did you find, Damon?" Damon gave him another sheepish look. "Really? Can you not focus and stay away from porn for five minutes?"

"I did," Damon argued. "It's just that it's been half an hour, not five minutes."

Adriano sighed. "Whatever. Katie, can you do me a favour?"

"Depends on the favour," she said evasively. "And what I would get in return."

"I need you to get Ginny Weasley's pet rat," he answered.

"Why?"

"Because he betrayed my parents."

Katie paused at that. "What?"

"Will you do it or not?"

"Like I said, what would I be getting out of this?"

Adriano took a moment to consider his options. "I'll give you tips on Chasing?" Katie shook her head. "I'll tell you a secret?"

"What, that you're Harry Potter?"

"What? No."

"Then no," she said firmly, crossing her arms over her chest.

He sighed, starting to get desperate on options. "How about I dance around the Great Hall completely naked?"

"While that would be entertaining, no."

"I will proclaim my undying love for you in the middle of a Potions class." There was another negative. "I'll take you to Yule."

Katie stopped half way through shaking her head. "Maybe if you asked politely."

Adriano blinked. Oh well, it wasn't as though going to the Ball with Katie would be bad. A part of his brain that sounded suspiciously like Pasquale and Damon added, 'Plus, you could bounce a Sickle off of that arse!'

Damon had stopped looking through his adult magazine and was instead watching the real life entertainment.

Presently, Adriano was awkwardly wondering if he should stay sitting, stand up, or get on one knee. Suffice to say, Damon was very amused at his normally suave friend floundering like an adolescent girl near a member of one of those ridiculous American boy bands.

Settling on sitting down, Adriano said, "Er, Katie, do you want to go to the Yule Ball with me?"

"Nope," she answered bluntly.

"Great- wait, what?" Damon snorted in amusement.

"That offer felt so ... fake, I guess," she said plainly. "How about this: there's a Hogsmeade weekend in a couple of weeks. You can take me there, and then we'll see about the Yule Ball."

Adriano took a moment to think. It was the middle of November already, so the Hogsmeade weekend would be in the beginning of December. With the First Task occurring on the 29th, he would still have more than enough time to prepare.

"Er ... sure, Katie, do you want to go to Hogsmeade with me?" Strangely enough, he found himself hoping that she answered in the affirmative.

She shrugged and leaned back in her chair. "Yeah, why not?" she said nonchalantly.

Adriano stared at her expectantly for a few moments. "So... are you going to get the Rat or not?"

Katie blinked. "Why Mr. Nero, talk like that will make me wonder if you only asked me out for me to do you a favour."

Adriano smirked. "If I wanted you to do me a favour, it wouldn't involve that Rat - although it may include your dormitories."

She failed at keeping down a blush but managed to keep a teasing tone as she said, "Naughty, naughty, Adriano. And yes, I will be getting Scabbers for you. I would have regardless, I just wanted to see how badly you wanted it." She paused for a moment. "Why did you think he betrayed your parents? He's just a rat."

Adriano sighed and flipped the page in his rubbish book. "Let's just say that the Rat is an Animagus."

"How can you be so sure?"

How could he be so certain? It was simple, really. Ron had mentioned to him that Scabbers had been in the family for ten years back when they were first years. For a relatively unremarkable rat to live fifteen years there had to be ridiculous odds against that same rat missing one toe. Not that he could tell her, not until Pasquale was vindicated, at least.

"It has certain markings on it that make it rather obvious," he said evasively. Understanding that she wouldn't be getting any more information out of him, Katie left the library, promising to go straight to Ginny's dorm and find the Rat. She also agreed accepted Adriano's suggestion of Stunning it to prevent it from biting her and escaping. It was only after she had left that he remembered about the Marauders' Map.

As she walked towards Gryffindor Tower, she reflected on all that she had learned about Harry, or Adriano, as he liked to be called. He was fairly good-looking, with bright green eyes and dark hair that was almost black enough to be considered a raven shade. Judging by his dedication to Quidditch, she presumed that he was also in pretty good shape, especially since Chasing was the most physically taxing position outside of the Beaters.

He also appeared to be a kind, brave person even though he showed a more chauvinistic side to most people. He was of above average intelligence, and was obviously powerful enough to warrant his selection for the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

She was so stuck in her thoughts that before she knew it, she was at the Portrait of the Fat Lady. She spoke the password and made a mental note to change it soon, as it had been the same for close to two weeks.

"Hey, Katie Bear." She turned around at the obnoxious voice; she had almost arrived at the dormitories, her feet coming to a stop at the bottom of the stairs.

"McLaggen," she greeted the back up Keeper and fellow seventh year warily. "What do you want?"

Cormac wasn't exactly on her top ten favourite people list. He was an arrogant bastard, and he barely had the looks to back up all of his posturing. And the worst part about him was that he seemed to have an inability to stay away from her. Ever since she had foolishly agreed to a date in Hogsmeade in fourth year - in which he was trying to catch the snitch before they had even ordered (of course, she had to pay for the butterbeers) - he refused to acknowledge the concept that maybe, just maybe, she actually didn't like him.

"Oh come on Katie Bear, no need to be like that," he said, walking towards her. She noticed that the Common Room was empty, and she slipped her wand into her hand. "I just wanted to know if you'd changed your mind about coming to the Yule Ball with me yet."

"No, I haven't, McLaggen," she spat. "Now, if you don't mind," she said, and turned back to the staircase, intending to get Scabbers.

She barely hear the sound of sneakers behind her, and suddenly, Cormac was right behind her, holding her. One arm wrapped around her waist, pinning her wand arm to her side and pulling her close to him, while the other, his left, cradled her breasts. He bit her ear and blew into it, something that he probably found seductive. It wasn't.

"Oh come _on_, Katie Bear. Stop playing so hard to get."

His hand tried to pinch one of her nipples but she kicked back, her foot connecting solidly with the McLaggen family jewels. As his hands came down to cradle his groin, she kneed him in the head, a satisfying crunch telling her that she had broken his nose.

"What the fuck, Bell?" he asked as she twirled her wand in her hand. He clambered towards the nearest wall and leaned against it.

She stepped towards him and grabbed him by the collar and put her wand between his legs with enough force to make him wince. "I am so, so tired of you and your bullshit, McLaggen. I don't like you because you are a creepy bastard who has absolutely no respect for me expect for my tits. I'm not going to go to the Yule Ball with you because I already have a date." That was a lie, not that she would be averse going to the Ball with Harry. "And I will never, _ever_ love you, you crazy son of a bitch, so stay away from me, or next time, I'll try out the Severing Charm!"

It was a bluff, but he paled anyways. Even if she was proficient at Memory Charms - which she wasn't - there were enough Gryffindors that knew how much she loathed him. And regardless of the circumstances, a Half-Blood attempting Line Theft on a Pure-Blood wouldn't go over well with the Wizengamot. Luckily, McLaggen wasn't smart enough to figure it out.

She left him as he was, blood spurting out of his nose and his hands between his legs. She jogged up the steps to Ginny and the rest of the fifth year girls' dorms. Surprisingly, the room wasn't empty. Ginny herself was there, wearing only panties and a sports bra and was underneath a panting black male that she recognized as Dean Thomas, her boyfriend. And the rat Animagus was ... watching them from atop a dresser.

Maybe Harry was right about it being a Wizard in disguise.

Neither frolicking teens had noticed her, so she silently Stunned and Summoned the Rat. On second thought, she Enervated it but quickly put it into the Full Body Bind. She wanted the perverted bastard to know exactly what was happening.

Cormac was still lying on the ground when she walked by, but she didn't even spare him a glance. At least, not until he spoke up.

"You were wrong, by the way," he said in a pained voice. "I don't only respect you for your tits." She walked closer to him, curious about what he meant. "I also think you have a great arse." He smiled goofily despite the pain.

She wiped the smile off of his face with another well-aimed kick to his coin purse.

She buffed her nails mockingly as she walked away and towards the library. When she arrived, Damon was already gone; Harry explained that he was pursuing Susan still.

She gave him the Petrified rat, its eyes twitching in fear, and he thanked her graciously. Suddenly, he said in a concerned voice, "Katie, what happened to your leg?"

She looked down, and there was a bloody spot on her knee, the blood remnants from Cormac's nose. "Oh, that's nothing," she said with a smirk. "Not even my blood."

"Er, okay then," he replied. "I guess I'll see you later then?"

"Yeah," she agreed and stood to leave. He also rose to his feet and enveloped her in a sudden hug. She had to consciously refrain from doing to him what she had done to Cormac, and instead returned the hug.

"Thanks again, really," he said again. "Take care, Sweetheart." Strangely enough, she didn't mind that nickname nearly as much as she did Katie Bear.

Adriano quickly approached the carriage and knocked on the Consul's door hurriedly. A few moments later it opened and she stepped through. "Centurion, what can I do for you?"

He raised Wormtail triumphantly. "Consul, I'm heading to the Hogwarts' Headmaster's Office, and I was hoping you could come with me."

"Of course, Centurion, that's what I'm here for," she said with a feral, almost lupine grin.

"By the way, Consul," he said quietly as the walked the Halls of Hogwarts, not bothering to find the Werewolf. "I was wondering if you'd ever seen Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer before."

"I have," she said with a small smile, showing sharp teeth.

"Who is your favourite character?" he asked conversationally. Hopefully Damon had been right about the Yeti reference, but he wanted to be sure.

"The Elf that wants to be a dentist, I can never remember his name," the old woman answered. "He was always so inspirational to me, especially with the way he dealt with problems, like pulling all of Bumbles' teeth."

"I agree, that scene was one of my favourites," he replied. Soon after, they arrived at Dumbledore's Office and knocked on the door.

"Enter," called Dumbledore's voice curiously. They walked through and found him sitting by himself, sucking on a lemon drop. "Mr. Nero, Consul Lupa, how can I help you?"

"Well, Mr. Dumbledore," Adriano said, withdrawing the Petrified rat from his pocket. "I realize that I still have a month and a half until my deadline, but..."

Dumbledore's eyebrows rose as he placed Wormtail on the desk.

"I caught a rat."

* * *

**A/N**: Sorry for the slight delay, I was sick over the weekend and what little I had written made no fucking sense. My apologies, but you probably couldn't care less about my excuses.

**One thing to you reviewers**: if you want to flame, go ahead. Say whatever you want; I'll cry myself to sleep and be fine tomorrow. But please sign in so that I can respond or at least take you seriously, because you Guest flamers make me want to delete the option for Guest reviews.

I will have a chapter out next weekend, since I have no school on Friday, but I'll probably spend the day reading House of Hades anyways (if I've received it by then).

**Until then**, review if you liked the chapter, disliked it, or if you want to see a descriptive omake at the end of next chapter about Cormac meeting Bumbles and the Elf-Dentist whose name I can't remember and I'm too damn lazy to look up. Mucho grassy ass.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer**: I don't own a single thing except for the clothes on my back, and even that I didn't pay for.  
Chapter 7

* * *

Adriano sat at the Hufflepuff table with Katie, Damon, Aysha, and a few other Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors. The group had long since decided on sitting at the Hufflepuff table permanently, as it was the most neutral and welcoming to students of other houses.

It was early in the morning as they had classes that day. He was keeping a close eye on the owls; the news about Sirius had yet to hit the media, but it probably wouldn't take much longer.

Blaise entered through the Entrance Hall looking a bit more gloomy than usual, to the point where he could have been described as depressed. He didn't even glance at the pretty Ravenclaw who had 'accidentally' dropped a quill on the floor and bent over in front of him.

"Are you okay?" Adriano asked as Blaise fell into a seat and started stabbing at bacon.

The dark skinned male of the group glared at his long time friend. "Just peachy," he spat, moodily trying to impale a poached egg on a spoon.

Adriano faltered for a moment; he wasn't too proficient at moments such as these. "Do you want to ... talk about it?"

"Talk about what?" Blaise made a face as he realized that he had flattened his egg but coated it with salt and bit into it anyways, grimacing at the flavour.

"Whatever has your knickers in a twist," Adriano answered with a vague wave of his hands.

"It's nothing," Blaise growled.

"Nothing? It looks like someone took a shit in your cereal," Adriano said with a disbelieving glance. A few seats away, Damon chuckled at the odd comparison.

The youngest Zabini bit into a piece of toast as ferociously as someone could possibly bite into toast. "Well, if you must know, when I woke up this morning, I was alone."

"So?" Damon asked. "You're throwing a temper tantrum because you didn't get any last night?"

Blaise glared at him but he didn't back off. "For your information, I'm having a 'temper tantrum' because I _did_ get some last night."

"And when you woke up you found out it was a guy?" Damon guessed.

"What? No, why, has that happened to you?" Damon's eye twitched but he stayed quiet. "If you'll let me finish, when I woke up, Daphne was gone. We had been in my dorms though, so I figured she was just doing ... female hygiene things ... So I checked up on her in the bathroom."

"And she was dead?" Damon guessed wildly, causing Katie to choke on her pumpkin juice.

"No," Blaise answered and tried to continue, but he was cut off by another of Damon's guesses.

"She told you that she was having morning sickness and was pregnant with your child?"

"What? Merlin no!" Blaise answered, though the questions had drawn a small smile from him. Adriano was laughing whole hitting Katie's back, trying to help her stop choking.

"Then I'm all out of guesses," Damon confessed. "Well, not really, but Adriano wants me to try to separate porn from reality, so..."

"It may have been that, but I doubt it's what you're thinking," Blaise answered. "No, she was ... let's just say that her legs were wrapped around Malfoy's head."

"Did you check for Imperius?" Adriano asked, having made sure that Katie was fine.

Blaise replied in the affirmative. "Her eyes were alert, none of the usual signs were present - if she was under it, it was by someone a Hell of a lot of more powerful than Malfoy."

"Then why would she cheat on you?" Aysha asked. "Did you do anything stupid lately?" Blaise shook his head. They went through more possibilities, each of which Blaise responded to in the negative. "I hate to say it, but maybe she was never in love with you."

Blaise nodded sadly. "I already figured that much out. I reckon her Dad is in Mr. Malfoy's pocket, and she'll eventually end up either his trophy wife or concubine, with Parkinson as the wife."

"You Brits still have concubines?" Andreia asked, aghast. "I get that you're stuck in the Renaissance, but still..." Portugal, like Spain, France, Greece, and Italy were some of the more progressive countries in Europe, with Germany, Russia, and the United Kingdom the most 'barbaric,' as some would say.

"Er, yeah," Blaise said. Unlike most Brits, who would have been surprised by how old-fashioned some of their traditions were in comparison to other countries (especially regarding women and their places in society), he had some idea what the continent's views on such practices were. "But it's only the really old families that do it nowadays. Outside of the Malfoys, Lestranges, Blacks and the like, most Houses have tried to forget that we used to do that."

"That's just awful," Aysha murmured. "And these concubines are just willing sex slaves basically?"

"Not necessarily willing," Blaise said with a disgusted look at Draco. "Some, like Malfoy Senior, are rumoured to have Muggles as concubines, and because they aren't Magical, Lucius can sign their agreement forms for them to make them his toys. And the worst thing is, it's all legal."

"When you put it that way, you make me want to go to the continent instead of staying in England next year," Katie said.

"What are you planning on doing with your life? If it's something like Quidditch, you can easily stay in another country, especially if you have the talent. Although it wouldn't matter; as a Half-Blood, you can't really be roped into any kind of Magically binding arrangement without your agreement."

Katie shrugged. "I'd like to play Quidditch, but I want to keep my options open."

That was apparently the cue for the owls as the metaphorical floodgates suddenly opened, the bird flying through the roof and circling as they searched for their respective owners. A tawny owl briefly flew over Adriano before landing and throwing a leg at him.

He pulled out a quill and quickly signed that he was indeed Adriano Nero and then grabbed the Daily Prophet held by the owl. The front cover showed a large picture of Pasquale's mug-shot, screaming at the camera. The title read: 'Sirius Black: Dead!'

Not having been written by Rita Skeeter, it displayed some level of accuracy to Adriano. According to the journalist, a fellow named Thomas Marvels, Sirius had been caught by British Aurors in Egypt. However, he had taken down several unnamed Aurors before the Wizarding Law Enforcers began using lethal Spells and slew the betrayer of the Potters.

There was a small side-note that Harry Potter was also still alive, but had changed his name to Adriano Nero in fear of his insane godfather catching him. This handsome young man was none other than the Tri-Wizard Champion representing Befana's School of Sorcery, and had been adopted by a distant cousin of his father's, Pasquale Nero and his wife, Apolline.

He calmly flipped the page of the Prophet and began checking the box scores from the past nights Quidditch matches. "Merlin, Ballycastle absolutely _destroyed_ Holyhead!" That was no lie; Ballycastle had won by a margin of 520 to 140, but he doubted that it was the cause of Katie, Blaise, Aysha, and Damon's gapes.

Suddenly, Damon clamped a hand over his chest. "You're Harry Potter!" he gasped in mock shock.

Aysha glared at the chuckling males. "What in Befana's name is this about?"

Adriano looked down guiltily. "I wanted to surprise you guys. That article, well, it isn't a hundred percent accurate."

"How so?" Katie asked, a suspicious gleam to her eyes.

"For starters, they didn't find Sirius, or Pasquale, for that matter, considering that they are the same person. Peter Pettigrew is still dead, officially from an unknown Dark spell by Sirius Black, but truthfully because of a Dementor's kiss."

Adriano paused for a moment to let that sink in. Andreia was the first to speak up: "So this Pettigrew person was the actual betrayer of the Potters?"

"And he actually was in disguise as the Weasleys' pet rat?" Katie followed up.

"Yes to both," he answered with an amiable smile.

"Wait, backtrack a second: what does this have to do with the Weasleys' pet rat?" Hannah Abbot, a nearby Hufflepuff asked.

"Absolutely nothing," Adriano denied. Perish the thought, but he had completely forgotten about the assorted Badgers and Lions nearby that had no idea about the truth.

Later on he would explain in detail how Pettigrew had been executed by Minister of Magic Fudge and Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement Amelia Bones in front of himself, Dumbledore, and Lupin. What he wouldn't tell them was that he had sent a copy of his memories to his Dad, and that Lupin still thought that Sirius was a spy, but that he and Pettigrew had collaborated for a while in betraying the Potters before they tried to betray one another.

Adriano had never wanted to smack a person more in his entire life. So he had. Dumbledore had not seemed impressed by either of them, and he was pretty sure that if it was a few weeks later or a couple of days earlier, the Werewolf would have wolfed out.

He would, however, inform them that Sirius had not wanted to draw too much attention to the family. He wanted to be cleared of his charges, but he didn't want to suddenly have to deal with a flood of reporters that wanted to bring the Boy Who Lived back to England. It would still happen, but by having the familial connection but none to the British Isles would prevent some of the less intense reporters from following them.

Not having any more to add on to the subject, Adriano returned it to the previous one. "So... What are you going to do with Malfoy?"

"Nothing," Blaise answered. "And then, in a few weeks, I'll remind dear old Draco that I sleep in the same room as him."

"Then what?" Damon asked eagerly.

"Nothing," Blaise deadpanned. "A little while after that, I'll break whatever Wards he puts over his quarters, and leave a small note."

"Saying what?" Katie asked, now interested in the conversation. Adriano tried to remember any feuds that she would have, but other some annoying Gryffindor, he couldn't think of anyone.

And even the Gryffindor, Cormac McLaggen, she hadn't mentioned. He only knew of him because he was found by Ginny and Dean in the Gryffindor Commons with a busted nose and bits, an event that he estimated would have been around the same time as Katie's retrieval of Wormtail.

Back to the conversation at hand, Blaise replied, "Nothing at all."

Damon looked confused while Aysha smirked. "That's brilliant," she praised. "Evil, but brilliant."

"What's brilliant?" a frustrated Damon asked loudly, drawing attention from some of nearby students.

"The bloody wanker will barely be able to sleep, what with him constantly being paranoid about me getting revenge."

"So basically, your master plan for revenge is to make him think you're going to get revenge, but never actually do anything?" Damon summarized. At Blaise's nod, he muttered, "Absolutely foolproof. It's not like he could just sleep in the Girls' Dorm, or anything like that."

* * *

It was a few days later that Adriano played his first game of Quidditch since the middle of October, and it was the best of the Legion against the best of Hogwarts.

The citizens of the aforementioned school had so far respected his wish to remain as Adriano Nero, though an annoying Gryffindor in Ginny Weasley's year kept on taking photographs of him and asking for autographs.

Lee Jordan, who had graduated the year before, was brought back to commentate the game. And because he was brought back, once again under the watchful eyes of Professor Minerva McGonagall, the Weasley twins, Fred and George, had been brought back to unleash the balls and play referee.

Adriano somehow doubted that the game would be called evenly.

"Welcome to the first Quidditch match of the year!" Lee's amplified voice announced to cheers from all present. "This match is between Befana's School of Sorcery and the clearly superior-"

"Jordan!"

"-Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! Don't protest, Professor, you know it's true!" Despite himself, Adriano chucked at the biased announcer as he hovered a few feet over the ground in the tunnel.

"And here come the Legion, with Beaters Mendoza and Ogbulafor, followed by Chasers Nero, Bajrami, and Stromboli! Next is the Seeker Kapouzis! And finally the Keeper and Captain, Giullare!" The team flew out onto the pitch and made a few circles amidst a rather negative response from the rowdy Englishmen.

He deftly avoided the ball that Ariella Mendoza had aimed at his head. It was just a regular ball that they warmed up with, as the Bludgers would not be released until the whistle, but it could still do some damage. Being of the Second Cohort, she tended to have a slight grudge towards him. The fact that he had beaten her, a Praetor, to become the Tri-Wizard Champion likely didn't help her mood.

While tall and powerful, she was also intelligent, making herself a deadly Beater. It also helped that she was a good specimen of a woman, a fact that made her underestimated frequently. It had definitely resulted in several overconfident males being knocked off of their brooms.

Chinua Ogbulafor sped around him and returned it. Chinua was a good man from the Seventh Cohort, a Cohort that regularly got looked past. However, it was difficult to look past the hefty Nigerian who had a similar physique to Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.

Christine Bajrami he could work with. In his year and in Damon's Cohort, the Albanian girl had been one of the few that he had bothered to court properly, a small and elite group that included Aysha and now Katie. They had actually dated, or what passed for dating at that age, for all of third and fourth year. They had had some memorably times together, and she was arguably the reason that Adriano was as good of a Chaser as he was, having pushed him to be the best player that he could be.

On the contrary, Massimo Stromboli was one of his worst rivals. Like himself and Christine, Massimo was a Chaser and Centurion in sixth year, though he was in the Third Cohort. He was also Adriano's main rival for the spot of Praetor when they returned to Italy, and the two had had a memorable duel the year before where both had ended up in the Infirmary for a week, and detention for thrice that.

The Seeker, Vasilis Kapouzis, was another of the more neutral students. An Eighth Cohort seventh year, Vasilis was easily the most skilled Seeker in the Legion, and it was an arguing point with many of his peers that he seemed set on a career in Athens as a professional.

And finally there was Gianluca Giullare, his team mate and long time friend, as the Keeper that held the whole team together.

On paper, they were dysfunctional. Many of them had some kind of problem with another, especially regarding inter-Cohort issues. But the moment that they flew onto the Quidditch pitch, they were a team, one that was poised to dominate a comparatively mediocre and internally warring Hogwarts team.

He whirled around on his Nimbus 2000 as Jordan continued his introductions. "And the starting line-up for the substantially better team consists of Beaters Bole and Zabini, followed by Seeker Chang! Next is the Keeper Cadwallader, and Chasers Bell, Thomas, and Captain Pucey! Did they really have to choose a Slytherin as Captain?"

"Jordan!"

"Sorry Professor." He didn't sound sorry at all.

Adriano had been surprised that Katie hadn't been given the Chaser position, but even more so when she had been agreeable to it. When he had thought about it more, he remembered Pucey as being a fair player for a Slytherin, and was mainly happy that Malfoy wasn't made the Seeker or, Merlin forbid, Captain.

The Weasley twins brought both teams in as Pucey and Gianluca shook hands, neither budging an inch. Adriano winked at Katie as Gred let loose the snitch. It circled around his head before he swatted it away. Then Forge unbuckled the restraints of the Bludgers as Gred took out the Quaffle and threw it into the air.

Adriano mentally blocked out the crowd as he went into his happy place: the Quidditch pitch. Christine and Katie raced to the Quaffle with Katie catching up to it a moment before Christine would have and tossed it up to Dean. Adriano noticed that Pucey was wide open but Dean instead elected to fly forward a few feet, jerking out of the way as a bludger sped towards him and dropping the Quaffle into Katie's hands.

Katie, unlike Dean, tried the pass down the pitch to Pucey, but Massimo intercepted it easily. He sent it up quickly to Christine who was about twenty feet out from the leftmost hoop, and she faked a pass to Adriano before scoring on Cadwallader's open flank, which he had left to cover Adriano.

"Ten to Nil for Befana's," Lee's voice called dully. The Legionnaires cheered wildly while the Hogwartians groaned and glared at nearby Hufflepuffs as though they were responsible for their Housemate's failure.

Adriano fell back to cover the left flank while Massimo took the middle and Christine the right. It was a zone defence, and not the most effective Quidditch strategy, but they were a trio based more off of offensive merit than defence. They left that to the Beaters and Gianluca.

Katie and Dean made a fast give-and-go that got around Massimo but Dean's blind pass to Pucey was not a challenge to Adriano who sped off with the Quaffle safely tucked under his arm. Christine stayed back slightly as Massimo moved forward, so Adriano lobbed it to him.

In a surprising move, Blaise managed to knock it out of the air with a well aimed Bludger and directly to Pucey. He passed it forward to Dean mere moments before Ariella nearly knocked him off his broom with her own Bludger. Dean tossed it past Christine to Katie who faked right before shooting right anyways, but Gianluca saved it with his fingertips, pushing it against the edge of the hoop and off with a dull noise.

Gianluca retrieved it and passed it to Adriano who had gone back to the defensive zone. Adriano, deciding to have some fun, threw the Quaffle straight up to Chinua, who smacked it like it was a Bludger with his Bat. Though he was more powerful than he was accurate, it was still a viable pass to Massimo who barrel rolled over Dean and dropped it to Christine.

As Cadwallader closed in on her she threw it past him to Adriano who easily sent it through the middle hoop. He sent a cheeky wink at Katie as Lee announced that it was twenty to nil.

The rest of the match continued to be fast paced as the Italians moved the Quaffle forward faster than the opposing Beaters could react with sharp, accurate passes. And as they had predicted, Hogwarts started to fall apart.

After half an hour, Dean refused to pass it to Pucey anymore, something that Adriano, Massimo, and Christine took advantage of, though it left them open a couple of times and resulted in a few scores.

Then Bole, the younger brother of a Slytherin Beater and a Ravenclaw in his own right, began ignoring the cues that Blaise sent him, and Blaise did the same towards him.

Suddenly the Legion was pulling far away, by a hundred, one twenty, one fifty. It took an hour and a half, but Cho Chang finally caught the snitch just as Katie's shot bounced off of the left hoop, mere inches away from having tied it.

The final score was two hundred and fifty to two hundred and forty for Befana's School of Sorcery.

Vasilis, naturally, complained that Cho had flashed him an illegal amount of her décolletage moments before her capture of the snitch. It wouldn't have changed the end result, but a three hundred and ninety to ninety result would have permanently demoralized the Hogwarts faithful. To Vasilis' credit, Cho's uniform was unbuttoned several buttons farther than was legal, but Gred and Forge didn't seem to notice no matter how blatantly obvious it was.

In the end, Adriano and Massimo had each scored ninety while Christine added seventy of her own. For Hogwarts, Katie had led the team with seventy points, while Dean and Pucey only contributed ten each.

All in all, it was a triumphant return to Quidditch in Scotland for Adriano. Gianluca had saved fifty out of the fifty nine shots, Chinua and Ariella had combined for thirty seven disruptions, and Vasilis, well, Vasilis saw an amount of cleavage that he probably wouldn't see again until the next time he caught the snitch.

* * *

December soon followed, and with it came the next excursion to Hogsmeade, a Wizarding village near Hogwarts that Adriano had never been to before, though Pasquale had told him enough stories about some of the stores there. For some reason though, almost all of the tales had to do with busty barmaids and pranks.

And thus, he found himself standing with Katie, Damon, Susan, Aysha, Ron, Lavender, and Blaise. Hermione was going on her own with Terry, having apparently forgiven him, and Andreia was going with some of her friends.

Adriano had given Katie a quick once over when she had shown up. Then he had taken a second, longer look at her, exaggerating the motions slightly.

She was wearing casual clothes meant for the Winter in Scotland. 'Thank Merlin that Hogsmeade is surrounded by Warming Charms,' he thought. Indeed, if it were not for the somewhat artificial environment of the Magical town, she likely would have been forced to wear a heavy jacket.

As it was, she was clothed in a colourful jumper that accentuated her curves nicely and tight jeans. The outfit was completed by boots that he was sure he had seen frequently in the Muggle world. Her long blonde hair was tied up in the way that she normally did it.

Adriano took her by the arm and they sat in a carriage with Damon, Susan, Blaise, and Aysha, with Ron and Lavender on the next carriage. Damon informed them that they were being pulled along the cobbled road by Thestrals, skeletal horses that could only be seen by those who had seen death. They were omens of death and thus, they were generally considered to be dangerous.

Adriano had a smile on his face as he sat next to Katie. The Sun was shining, the sky was a clear blue, and he had a good feeling about the day.

The group stayed together at the beginning, somewhat awkwardly. Damon and Susan clearly wanted to be by themselves, but Blaise and Aysha were both on their own, so they decided not to separate.

Adriano took Katie's hand in his and found that it fit perfectly. "So," Katie said, addressing him. "What's up with the Second and Third Cohorts?"

"What do you mean?"

"Don't act dumb with me. Those two Cohorts seem to have something against you and Gianluca."

"I guess," he shrugged. "Those Cohorts are just a bit more ... New Age, I suppose, about how they think the Legion should be run."

"What does that mean?" she asked, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

"Well, most of the Cohorts are agreeable with the Ancient Rome motifs, some of us even believe in the Pagan gods still. But the First, Second, and Third Cohorts believe that instead of a Legion, we should be more like ... well, like the mafia," he said bluntly.

"Oh," she said thoughtfully. "That's ... nice." Adriano chuckled.

They made quick stops in Zonko's joke shop, Honeydukes to restock on sweets, and a variety of other stores. Inevitably, as every visitor to Hogsmeade found, the road led to the Three Broomsticks.

The eight sixth and seventh years, for Ron and Lavender had caught up with them in Zonko's, and sat in a wide booth. Madam Rosmerta, the - true to Pasquale's tales - well endowed barmaid, came to serve them, and walked away with seven calls for butterbeer and one for water.

"So, Lavender," Adriano said conversationally, internally wondering whether or not to put an arm around Katie's shoulders. "I'm surprised you didn't order a butterbeer."

The brown haired girl across from him rubbed her stomach in response. "I'm fine with water, since butterbeer may not react well."

"With what?" Damon asked, his voice filled with confusion.

"Ron didn't tell you?" she asked in response, shooting the male in question a glare. The ginger responded with a sheepish look. She sighed and said, "I don't know why he didn't tell you, but I'm preg-"

She was cut off by a sudden explosion, startling the group. Susan and Adriano, both of whom had relatives in their countries' respective Auror forces, were among the first to react in the restaurant.

"What the Hell was that?" Susan asked. Another explosion, stronger than the first, rocked the foundations of the Three Broomsticks.

Adriano raced to the door and stared out through the window. He could see smoke coming from the direction of the Hog's Head, an old and worn down tavern, accompanied by a fire from several of the buildings in that area.

He saw a woman in red Auror robes with, strangely enough, pink hair running towards the largest bar in Hogsmeade. "What's going on?" he asked as she approached.

The woman slowed to a halt as she caught her breath for a moment. A few seconds later, a tall black man appeared near her. "The Portuguese sent out a warning about a week ago," the male said in a deep voice.

"What about?" Damon asked.

"Tiago Silva," the pink haired Auror replied.

"Tiago Silva," Adriano murmured. "Where do I know that name from?"

"Isn't he that Portuguese Wizard who got life in prison for assassinating their Minister back in the eighties? He ended the Cortez era, didn't he?" Aysha replied.

"Yeah, that's who he was!" Adriano confirmed. "Which means..." He turned towards the Aurors. "Is he after Andreia?"

"I don't know," the male replied. He seemed to be impatient that he had to deal with a bunch of overly curious kids. "I'm not here to figure out his motive, I'm here to stop a serial killer from taking more innocent lives than he already has and save as many children as I possibly can."

* * *

**A/N:** So when I originally wrote this, I got to the Hogsmeade scene, and then I went blank for two days, and I thought to myself, 'Fuck... I'm awful at romance.' So I wrote this instead.

The bit about Lavender being pregnant had originally been hinted at in chapter two, but it's more of an insignificant little side plot than anything else.

Also, I used a serial killer because whenever there's drama and action in Harry Potter, it's either Voldemort, Werewolves, or Vampires. I actually don't think I've ever seen a story where there's a 'normal' criminal.

The action will finally start to pick up next chapter, with a brief battle in Hogsmeade and hopefully the First Task. I should be able to get it out next weekend, but I'm crossing my fingers.

Anyways... Absolutely no one asked for the Bumbles meets Cormac omake... But I wanted to, so here it is. As an individual side story, it would be rated M for torture and fun stuff like that. I added in Hermey because, well, why not?

Review to let me know what you thought of the chapter, if you want more creative Cormac torture scenes, or whatever. Thanks for reading, and Happy Thanksgiving to my fellow Canadians.

* * *

**Omake**:

Cormac McLaggen was confused.

That was not, in and of itself, an unusual statement. Cormac was also confused during Charms and Transfiguration classes, as well as whenever Katie Bell would deny him, romantically or with regards to Quidditch.

It was, however, unusual for him to be tied down on some sort of a board so that he lay horizontal, with thick leather bands keeping him attached the board. There was one on his wrists, ankles, underneath his chin, biceps, and thighs.

He was also naked.

For a moment, he wondered if he had just had a shag with someone really kinky.

That suspicion - hope - was eradicated when a short man walked through the door wearing a white lab coat not unlike the ones Snape made them wear during Potions. He also had a pointy hat and was, well, short.

This short, unnamed gnome was accompanied by a massive white monster that, inexplicably, was missing all of its teeth.

Cormac started to get a bad feeling about everything as the gnome thing wheeled in a metal cart filled with sharp appliances. It removed one and walked towards him; the object seemed to be some kind of a plier.

"Where am I?" he asked as the creature approached. "Who are you? What am I doing here?" He strained against the bonds but could not free himself, nor could he figure out where his wand was.

"I am Hermey," the short creature responded with a wide grin. "And I'm a dentist! Or, at least, I want to be. For now, I'm just an elf. This is Bumbles, by the way. He's an abominable snowman." He pointed at the large white creature.

Maybe it was just Cormac, but that did not explain a single thing, except that he had been sniffing Potions fumes lately.

The elf - Hermey - placed the pliers near his thumb. "You are in the North Pole, in what will become my personal dentistry lab soon enough." It uttered a long, high pitched laugh and grabbed his right hand carefully. "And you are here to be punished for attempting sexual assault on Katie Bell, and because according to Santa, you've been a naughty boy."

"What punish-aah!" he screamed as Hermey pulled sharply on the tweezer-like object. Flesh ripped off of his thumb as his fingernail was removed painfully. "What the fuck, mate?" he cried only to scream again as he lost another nail.

And so the torture continued until Hermey had removed all of his fingernails. He tried to clench his fists to help deal with the pain, but it only made it worse. Hermey pressed a button somewhere and the board tilted and rose slightly. As it turned out, it was just so that Hermey could get to his toenails easily.

Once all of his toenails were removed, and he stopped writhing in pain for the moment, Hermey shone a bright light in his face. "Now then," the insane elf muttered, placing the bloody priers inside his mouth as Bumbles forced his jaw open. "This might hurt a little..." he yanked sharply, removing a tooth. "...bit."

The door was suddenly slammed open. "Avada kedavra! Avada kedavra!" A tall figure walked in as the elf and abominable snowman fell to the ground dead.

"Lord Voldemort!" Cormac gasped, inexplicably able to say the Dark Lord's name and recognize his resurrected form. "How did you get here?"

"That's not important," the Dark Lord waved his wand, releasing the naked teenager. "What is important is that those bastards are no longer wasting my screen time!"

"Screen time?" Cormac asked, spitting out a tooth that had been dislodged by Hermey's violence. "What screen time? Dude, you've only had one scene so far. Even I've had a scene, and I'm just here to piss people off!"

"Avada kedavra!" Voldemort cried, killing McLaggen. He walked over to the corpse and whispered, "I may have only been in once scene, but I've already had more tit action that you have, and I've been stuck in a baby form so far."

Then he Apparated back to England to kill Potter.


End file.
